The Nature of Our Anathema
by Encendrel
Summary: In another world, Robin's mother is a manakete, Robin inherits way too much of Grima's power, and a strange glitch in time causes a minor bout of amnesia. And what to make of this dark disposition?
1. 1-1 Pilot

**Welcome to my first Fire Emblem Story. I've played Awakening on three separate occasions and this little idea kept popping up.**

**I don't own Fire Emblem**

* * *

_You don't **nders***d, ***sh pu****. ***s *re a***ys ***ne._

* * *

"Chrom, we have to do _SOMETHING_."

It was with an incredible sense of melancholy that the man regained consciousness. He could feel the sun on his face and the ground underneath him but he couldn't compel his body to move.

"What do you propose we do?"

_Ugh_. When he heard that voice, he couldn't feel anything but wariness. Despite the fact that it held all the qualities that could be associated with 'trust' and 'compassion' he felt as if he had just met his destined foe for the first time.

"...I don't know!"

He rubbed his face a little and froze.

_Tears? When did that happen? Why was I crying?_

His eyes snapped open.

Above him were two strangers bent over him: A blue-haired young man and a blonde haired girl.

He took a look at himself. He's wearing a black cloak with purple cloth on the inside that's held by strings near his chest. He has a white undershirt and a drawstring bag hanging from his neck. It seems as if there's some kind of... spherical object inside? It doesn't matter. As for his pants, some greaves and boots.

The blonde girl seems like she's going to say something, but words flow out of his mouth like instinct.

"It's quite an auspicious day, isn't it? Quite nice to wake up to total strangers in the middle of a field."

He wipes his eyes again and hopes that his eyes weren't red from whatever dream made him cry.

Almost like children who just realized their folly, they stepped back awkwardly. "Oh! Um, I'm sorry." the girl said sheepishly.

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know." With a warm smile, he offered a hand to help him up. "Give me your hand."

Against his better judgement, he accepted the help.

As he took the man's hand, he noticed a strange purple six-eyed tattoo on his hand. However, he didn't dwell on it- it seemed he had better things to worry about than why he had such a strange tattoo on his hand. For example, the dream he could barely remember, darting around the edges of his conscious mind.

"You all right?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Chrom."

"Ah, then you know who I am?"

"Yes, thanks to your incredibly loud friend over there." He remarked dryly.

"...I suppose so. What's your name? What brings you to Ylisse?"

"My name is..." He trailed of hesitantly. "It'll come to me in a second, I'm sure."

"...You don't know your own name?"

"...Give me a moment on that. So tell me, what exactly is 'Ylisse?"

"..."

"Oh! I've heard of this! It's called amnesia!"

Amnesia: The partial or total loss of memory.

"...It certainly describes my situation." He muttered. He reached towards his drawstring bag and felt the weight inside.

Hm. He did that without thinking. What lay inside must be important, then...? He wasn't sure. From a logical standpoint, it must be some kind of keepsake- close to the chest, and constantly checked like a source of comfort.

"Certainly, there's no reason for us to believe you." He looked over to Chrom's right, where a blue wearing knight was standing. "You expect us to believe that someone wearing suspiciously Plegian clothing with cult markings on him was just lying on a field without any memories?"

"...Excuse me, but what does 'Plegian' mean?"

Chrom turned to Frederick with a raised eyebrow. "Peace, Frederick. Somehow, I get the feeling he's telling the truth. Besides, we can't just leave someone without any knowledge of the world in the middle of nowhere. What kind of shepherds would that make us?"

"I agree, though I must advise caution. It would not do to allow a wolf into a flock of sheep."

"Right. Then we'll just bring him to the town and sort this out there."

"I wouldn't be opposed to that." the amnesiac mused. "Am I to be your prisoner, though? I can assure you that I'm just passing through... Well, I am now, at least. Not so sure about before." His face fell as he remembered his predicament.

"No worries. We'll let you leave once we establish you're no enemy of Ylisse."

"Ylisse, you say. I still don't know what that word means."

"You've never heard of the halidom? Hah! He must be quite the actor. He plays quite the fool." He paused for a moment. "The furrowed brow is especially convincing."

"Frederick, we can worry about that later." He turned to the amnesiac. "The land we are currently in is known as the Halidom of Ylisse. "Our ruler, Emmeryn, is called the exalt. I suppose we should introduce ourselves. My name is Chrom, though I suppose I've already been introduced. The delicate one is my little sister, Lissa."

"I am NOT delicate!" She protested in a way that assured all of them that she was delicate. My brother can be a little thick sometimes." She stated cheerfully. "Well, you should be glad it was us Shepherds that found you. If it were brigands, you would have certainly been awakened rudely- or not at all!"

"Wow, way to show me the bright side..." He then adopted a complex expression. Wait, Shepherd? You mean that you tend to sheep? With armor?"

"Hey, it's a very dangerous job. Just ask Frederick the Wary here."

"It is a title I wear with pride. It must be that we keep an appropriate level of caution. While I would like to trust you at first glance, but my station requires otherwise."

The still unnamed man stared at him. "...I can respect that. If it were me, I would probably do the same... I think. This is rather vexing, actually. Ah! My name is Robin. Robin... Yep, it sounds familiar enough."

Inwardly he sighed. _Robin, huh? Maybe if I wait out long enough I can regain all of my memories._

"Robin? Is that foreign?"

"Milord, he wears Plegian clothes and has a Plegian mark on his hands."

"...We can discuss this later. We're almost at to-"

"Chrom! The town!"

The town was burning.

The town itself was rather unremarkable. There were a few small buildings littered about, probably houses, with larger ones near the center, probably working places, like a grocer or pottery store. At one end of town, across from a river (with a bridge over it), was a cathedral with smoke billowing through it.

Oh. And bandits. They looked like nice people. Looting stores and burning anything that could be burned.

Why did they do that anyways? They could just take the stuff and leave. No need to damage property as well.

When he saw the sight, he instinctively pulled one hand towards the drawstring bag and the other towards a pocket.

Not wanting to see the contents of the important bag yet, he reached into the pocket and pulled out a tome.

Flipping it open, he watched as ominous black sparks danced on his fingertips. Reading the obscure symbols on the page, it seemed that this was a lightning tome.

He tuned in to the conversation, leaving his musing for a later date.

"Damn it all! The town is being destroyed! It must be those brigands we heard of in the other town. Frederick! Lissa! Quickly!"

"But milord, what about h..." He trailed off as Robin was no longer there.

* * *

Robin found himself dashing towards the town. Something about this situation really irritated him.

He paused for a second, though, still running.

Was he really going to save random people he'd never met before? He felt like he was going against an essential part of him. However, he felt compelled to help for some reason. The two ideas conflicted within him and he had no idea why.

_...What the hell, I'll worry about it later._

Dashing towards the town, he saw some person with a sword standing near a house.

_Myrmidon. A skilled mercenary with a blade. However, they tend to be weaker than the average bandit._

Some intrinsic part of him pulled that information out.

He looked at the tome in his hand and shrugged. Why not?

Moving towards the myrmidon but not too close, he gathered magic in his hand based on the tome. Pointing it towards his target, he watched as magic circles formed around him and a black sphere of lightning blasted out of his hand.

_...Huh. That's useful._

He wasn't sure exactly how he was doing magic, just a vague feeling he'd done it before.

"By the gods, man!" Chrom yelled out. "Think before rushing into danger!"

For some reason, he found himself retorting with some technical words. "It's fine! Brigand units lack the movement capability to move close enough to attack me this turn! Besides, am I supposed to sit around while people are in danger?"

"Hm. Do you think yourself a tactician? We could use your help." Chrom offered.

"I think... Yeah, I think I might be. I'll issue commands, so follow my lead!"

He moved Frederick to flank on the left- He was a decent tank for the current task. Meanwhile, he told Chrom and Lissa to follow behind him.

"Chrom, head in the same direction as me. Pair Lissa, stay behind Chrom and heal him if he's not looking too good."

""Right/Got it!""

The myrmidon attacked him. He knew that this would inevitably happen, seeing as he lacked the magic power to simply blast the swordsman into smithereens.

Strangely, it didn't really hurt. Battlefield adrenaline, maybe?

In either case, he countered with another black orb of thunder, which succeeded in shocking the swordsman to death.

He viewed the situation. Frederick, paladin he was, was given the long route, which he took to great success.

He saw a brigand attack Chrom- who attacked back-, and Robin equipped his sword. "Huh. I guess I have one of these too."

_Brigand. An axe-wielding ruffian. Best point is attack power. Low skill and resistance._

Rushing forward, he stabbed the man in the chest while Chrom recovered.. "Need any help there, Chrom?"

Axes were heavy, after all. Even though Chrom was a swords user, it seemed that he wasn't skilled enough to evade it.

"No, I'm fine. Lissa will help me." The girl in question nodded in affirmation before raising her staff.

Robin walked towards closer to the bridge. A mage approached him.

_Mage. An amateur magician. Low vitality and defense, but higher resistances._

The mage attacked him with blades of wind, cutting into him.

Wait, no. The wind had absolutely no effect on him. 'Zero damage', one could say.

He turned to the wind mage.

"Huh." he said before rushing up to the mage and attacking him twice.

Lissa whistled. "Tactics, magic _and_ swords? Is there anything you can't do?"

Robin replied dryly. "Well, I can't seem to remember who I am."

"...Oh _yeah..._"

"Chrom, let's do a joint attack on that myrmidon. If I'm correct, pairing up should increase statistics... speed, skill, attacking power... it all works out."

"You know the plan, Robin. Direct me as necessary." Chrom chuckled, preparing to attack.

As expected, they made quick work of the swordsman taking little damage.

"Huh. I think you're right, Robin! You must be a genius!" Chrom patted him on the back. Robin smiled.

"Well, it must be my job then. Alright, that seems to be the last enemy. I'll attack it with my magic and you finish it off, alright?"

"Understood."

"Here, sheepies! Come to the slaughter!" shouted the bandit leader.

"Ugh. Isn't that a little crass, seeing as they're Shepherds? Well, it doesn't matter."

Magic circles formed around him and he launched the black lightning ball towards the bandit leader, who tossed a hand axe at him. He dodged handily, as it was a very predictable throw.

Chrom cut in front of him and delivered a finishing blow.

"Well," Robin looked around briefly. The people were already putting out fires and looking over their damaged property. "Looks like that's the end of it."

"Heehee, luckily for the town, we were close by. But Robin, you were incredible!"

"Really? I think you could have handled that yourself."

"Well, you're certainly not helpless, for sure."

"Indeed. Perhaps you may even remember how you came to be here?"

"You know, I could just say 'I walked here' and that would be the truth. But, Sir Frederick, may I ask you to lower your guard?" Robin sighed. "Instinctual memories are different from event memories."

"Indeed. You fought for Ylissean lives, which is enough reason for my heart to trust you."

"And what of your mind? Is this a wise choice?"

"All good kings follow their hearts, Frederick. Besides, we could use someone with tactical strategies like Robin. With unruly neighbors as well as brigands on our own soil, would you not want as much able help as possible? Besides, I can believe his story, considering his actions."

"...I suppose- Wait, are you recruiting me?"

"I'm giving you an offer." Chrom extended his hand.

"...Fine, I don't really have anything else to do." Robin shook the extended hand.

* * *

They looked over the rebuilding of the town. Frederick spoke.

"Milord, did you notice? Those brigands had a Plegian accent."

"...You still haven't explained to me what 'Plegian' means." Robin raised an eyebrow.

Chrom took it upon himself to explain. "Plegia is our western neigbor. They oft send small bands into our territory, hoping to instigate a war."

"And they always raid our towns! Those innocent, helpless..." Lissa looked down.

"That's why we're here, milady. To protect them."

"I know, I know. Don't worry, I'll get used to it eventually."

They heard footsteps behind them. "Milord! Please, stay for the night! We may not have much, but we are more than happy to provide you with a feast!"

However, it was not Chrom who replied. "Thank you for your offer, sir. I have no doubt your hospitality would be grand, but we simply must be heading to Ylisse.

"What!? We aren't staying? It's already dark!"

"Don't worry. When it turns dark, we'll camp. Sleep under the stars, eat bear meat, and the like. Aren't you supposed to be getting used to this?"

He got a silent petulant glare in return.

"That's quite stern of you." Robin noted. Chrom added to this.

"Frederick only smiles when he's about to give punishment."

"...I see."

"I AM still here, you realize."

"We are indeed aware." Chrom smirked.

"In any case, shall we be going?"

* * *

**Robin**

**Wanderer**

**Level- 2**

**HP- 21**

**Str- 9**

**Mag- 10**

**Skl- 6**

**Spd- 8**

**Lck- 5**

**Def- 7**

**Res- 24**

**Items-**

**Bronze Sword**

_A basic sword. 47 uses left._

**Thunder**

_Basic Lightning Magic. 42 uses left._

**So we already see the changes in Robin, chapter 1. All his magic turns out ominously black and he doesn't get the same flashback (flash forward?) he does in canon. He has a small drawstring bag with a spherical object in it (hint hint) tied around his neck so that it hangs like a necklace.**

**Also, it always bothered me that Robin hears Lissa calling Chrom 'Chrom' and Frederick still questions how he knows the name.**

**Leave a review, tell me what I did wrong, all that stuff.**

**The tactician has the male default build. 1. 1. 1. and all that.**

**Pairings will happen as they happen.**


	2. 2-1 World in Motion

**Chapter 2. I'll be doing weekly updates up until Chapter 6. Until chapter 6 it'll look alarmingly like canon, but bear with me.**

**Thanks for the reviews, guys. I'll try to change how I write so that it looks better.**

**I figured out all of Robin's classes. Thanks for the feedback.**

**I don't own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

"Frederiiick... I told you that it was getting dark already!" Lissa pouted rather childishly. "And now the bugs are out! Disgusting, disgusting bugs that'll crawl all over you and bite you when you-"

"Lissa, talking about it won't make it better, you know?" Robin raised an eyebrow. His grin then turned dark. "..._The more you think about it, the more likely it is that it'll happen..._"

He blinked.

"Robin! If you s- MMPH! Ah buhg! Ah buhg en mah mouph!" She made various spitting motions before coughing. "Eugh. Robin, did you jinx me?" She glared accusingly.

"Come on now, Lissa. Suffering builds character. Want to gather firewood with me?"

Lissa ignored him in favor of glaring at Robin.

Robin reached into his pockets instinctively as if they held all the answers in the world. Well, it had worked earlier and he seemed to have more things than just a book of Thunder and a bronze sword.

In his other pocket he found a leather-bound green book and a purple stone that seemed to glow with an inner fire. He wanted to check the inside of the green book- it might have been a journal of sorts- but it was too dark to check at that particular moment. He was fed information about the stone- the same way he learned about bandits and myrmidons.

_Dragonstone: A stone allowing Manaketes to change forms._

Huh. Why did he have a dragonstone? No matter, he'd worry about it later.

"...Nope, I don't think I have anything to hex you with, Lissa. Come back tomorrow?" He shrugged carelessly.

He was glared at for a while longer before Lissa sighed in defeat. "Haah... I'll pass on gathering firewood, Chrom."

"To be honest, though, I couldn't care less about bugs right now. I could eat a wyvern right now."

Frederick sneered. "The correct saying is, 'I could eat a horse,' Plegian. Or is that some strange Grimleal tradition?"

He tilted his head. "Grimleal? What's that?" In any case, the name certainly did ring a bell. "And honestly, I don't think horses make for good eating. They taste too much like civilization."

"..."

"..."

Chrom opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but closed it as if he was going to lose something important if he did say it.

"...I suppose it is about time for some hunting and gathering." Frederick conceded plainly. "So who wants to make the campsite?"

"I'll help you gather food." Robin offered. Frederick nodded in ascent.

"I'll gather firewood," said Chrom.

"Then it is up to you to clear the campsite, Lissa." Frederick noted cheerfully.

"Wh-hey! Guys! Don't just go off without me!"

* * *

"Hey, Frederick, could I ask you some questions?" Robin started curiously. He picked up a pebble as he walked aimlessly across the forest.

"As long as it remains out of the way of our hunting, I shall oblige you. Ask." Frederick walked in the same general direction as Robin.

Robin tossed the pebble up and down with the utmost fascination, like a child learning about the wonders of the golden rule of 'what goes up must come down'.

"What's a Grimleal?"

Frederick sighed. "I should apologize for doubting you earlier. As recent matters come to mind, it becomes apparent that you must not remember anything. A Grimle-no, the Grimleal are a Plegian cult worshipping the Fell Dragon, Grima. Grima is a harbringer of death, bringing strife and misery wherever it may be."

"I see…" stated Robin thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, 'Grima' seems to be a familiar term to me."

"In turn, I must ask you a question. Have you noticed that some of your features lack... human characteristics?"

Robin looked into the distance. "Ah! I saw something moving." He started walking in that direction. "And no, I haven't really looked at myself recently. Why?"

"Your ears are pointed and your teeth look sharp enough to cut steel." Frederick stated rather plainly for the way he was talking previously. He also headed in that direction.

"I hadn't noticed." Robin stated blankly, before reaching towards his ears.

Frederick watched in morbid amusement as the grown man touched his ears and recoiled like a cat touching water.

"Wow. Sensitive ears." He shivered at the feeling. He narrowed his eyes and eyed some faraway target that Frederick couldn't see. Still tossing the pebble up and down, Robin reached for a lightning tome, and a crackling sound could be heard. He wound back... and tossed. Crackling lightning seemed to spark in the air.

The shriek of a dying animal resounded for a second... and then it stopped.

Robin grinned. "Score!"

Frederick walked forward and inwardly sighed when he realized that they just killed a bear. That wasn't to say bears were bad- They were good meals for survival and the occasional extreme workout but...

No one could hate him for saying that it tasted and felt like rubber, right?

He inspected the kill. The pebble appeared to have gone straight through its leg, which normally wouldn't have been a killing blow if the lightning shock hadn't been there.

In other words, the amnesiac man had cheated. Frederick felt cheated, at least. If Chrom insisted in inviting the man to the Shepherds, he would just have to show Robin the proper way to kill a bear.

* * *

"What a catch, Robin! I haven't had bear meat in a long time! This is delicious! ...Hm? Lissa? Why aren't you eating?"

"Eeewww... Why couldn't you get us something that normal people eat, Robin? I mean, why bear of all things? Who eats bear?"

Robin, who was eating rapidly but not 'improperly' by the general sense of the word, swallowed and said, "Dragons do, I think." Robin stated casually before realizing how off-topic the statement was. He resumed eating anyways.

Lissa sighed. "Well, I suppose that not eating anything for a few days would make anything taste good..."

"Lissa, meat is meat. It's fine."

"MEAT DOESN'T SMELL LIKE OLD BOOTS! No, wait, old boots smell better!"

Robin interjected. "I'd call that a lie if I remembered what old boots smelled like." He shrugged.

"Milady, what doesn't kill you will make you stronger. Even if you don't enjoy it, it will be to your benefit later."

"Oh yeah? Then why aren't _you_ eating any?"

Conversation like this went on for a while.

* * *

"...Hm?" Chrom jerked up suddenly. Lissa rolled over from where she lay on the ground.

"Haah... What's up, big brother?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. But I feel like something is wrong..."

Lissa sighed. "Define 'something' for me, please."

"I'm not exactly sure... But I think I'll find it if I have a look around."

"Ah! Not alone, you won't I'll come with you."

"Heh. Thanks, Lissa."

* * *

Robin woke up with an uncanny feeling enveloping him. It seemed as if it had taken a grip on his heart, expanding with every beat.

And it felt _dark_.

He coughed loudly as he woke up, trying to shake the dirty feeling. It didn't work, but he was more aware afterwards.

"Shit... Where did Chrom and Lissa go? Frederick, wake up!" He spoke louder and louder as the feeling intensified.

That was when the ground began to quake.

In fact, fire seemed to be spewing everywhere as well. It was a scene straight out of an apocalyptic play.

"Frederick, you _really_ need to wake up right now."

"What is it, Plegi-" he paused when he looked around. "Oh."

"Chrom and Lissa have disappeared! We have to go find them!" He urged. Standing up, he grabbed the Thunder tome out of habit and began running.

Frederick, ever prepared, caught up soon after. "Where are you going, Plegian?"

Robin rolled his eyes. "Towards the gigantic portals. They're bound to have something eventful in them."

That and he was following his 'sixth sense' which he seemed to have grown overnight. Or maybe he always had it but it was never the right time to use it?

Curse his amnesia.

...

When they arrived on the scene, they watched as Chrom stabbed a sword into a body. Said body disintegrated into a cloud of black smoke.

Robin breathed in. Huh. He felt almost refreshed. It was as if the energy from the bodies was reacting t-

"AHH!"

Right. More important things to do.

"Lissa!" Chrom turned to the side.

Lissa was backing away from what looked like an animated corpse, holding her staff up as if it would actually do something. The corpse raised its axe, and swung downwards.

A figure, seeming like it was slightly more human, jumped in front of the corpse, deflecting the axe.

Robin was fast to act, calling up a black lightning bolt to destroy the corpse as soon as he saw what happened.

Said corpse disintegrated almost immediately, lingering electrical energy still crackling in the air.

Hm. The energy that had been building up since he had woken had diminished, slightly. Was it aiding his magic?

He needed to stop with his introspection. It wasn't helping anyone right now.

"That was quite an entrance." Chrom stated, looking at the blue-haired portal-warrior. "What's your name?"

The tension was thick, keeping Frederick or Robin from interfering.

However, at that moment, the boy fled.

Robin spoke. "I take it such creatures are uncommon in these lands?"

Rather, he was even being fed information for an unknown enemy. _Risen: An animated corpse. They hold the same capabilities as a normal human, with added defense and health._

In other words, a huge pain.

"I've certainly never seen them before, at least." Chrom replied.

Frederick looked at his charges, checking for injuries.

"Milord, milady, you can't just walk off without telling us. You could have been hurt or killed there!"

"The masked man saved me, though! If it wasn't for him, I'd be... Hey, where'd he go?"

Robin stared blankly. "...You really didn't see him run off?"

"Milady, we can worry about that after these abominations are dealt with. Stay vigilant, now. We face an unknown enemy."

"Of course."

* * *

"So..." Robin trailed off. "Those are..."

_Forts: A structure made to defend from invaders. Provide defense and evasion bonuses to occupants._

Robin sighed as the information was fed directly to him. Seriously, was he trying to make a living off of tactics before he woke up in that field?

"Abandoned forts, yes. Ylisse builds them to defend us from invaders, though they have not been used recently because of peacetime."

"I see. It would be a good idea to take shelter in them when possible. It can provide us with some defense and make it hard for us to be caught unaware. Chrom, head towards the fort on the south side of us and attack the nearby enemy." Robin issued a command easily. "Frederick, you'll engage the west side. Lissa, we're going to back up Chrom."

"Understood."

The burning forest proved to be a problem, though. Smoke filled his lungs and provided a dry feeling he couldn't wait to be rid of.

The path to the fort was rather barren. Though it made sense, as it would be a bad idea for enemies to have cover near a fort. The grass crunched under their feet as they followed Chrom's figure, which had just landed a diagonal blow on the Risen.

True to Robin's expectation, Chrom's maneuvering around the fort prevented the Risen from hitting him. Almost angrily (for a corpse, that is), the Risen swung indiscriminately towards Chrom.

A sideways slash came close to hitting him. Avoiding by a hair's breadth, Chrom struck a second time. a stab. However, the Risen seemed to still be alive after this.

"Thunder!"

And it was such. A finishing lightning bolt took the Risen out, blasting it a good four feet before it collapsed and disintegrated like its brethren.

"Alright. Chrom, are you hurt?" Robin strolled forward. "We're currently in a good position so we won't be attacked by the Risen for a while."

"Risen? Where'd you come up with that term? Also, I've not a scratch on me."

"The name just... came to me, I guess. Do you have a different term for these creatures?"

"No, this is the first time I've seen them. Rather, that's quite a fitting name."

"Glad you like it, Chrom." Robin remarked in deadpan. "But look up- enemies are approaching."

A Risen swordsman approached Robin, jumping up and slashing downwards. Robin clutched a bleeding shoulder- which strangely didn't hurt that badly. He'd expected it to hurt like liquid fire or freezing blood but it was just a dulled sensation, as if he'd felt worse before. Blood began to smear his cloak, however, but he moved backwards and responded with a lightning bolt.

Unfortunately, it seemed the swordsman was still up. On the other hand, Chrom was close by, so it wouldn't be too hard to take it down.

"Lissa, heal me, but stay behind me." His voice rang out again. "Chrom, aid my attack on the Risen."

"Got it. Chrom dashed towards the Risen that was currently trying to attack Robin again, and intercepted its path. Slicing it cleanly in half, Chrom stood up straight and stabbed his sword into the ground.

"Nice one, Chrom."

"Duly noted. Ah, your injury-"

Robin chuckled. "This is nothing. Despite it looking bad, it hasn't touched any of my vitals. However, blood continues to stain my clothes and I could _really_ go for that staff right now, Lissa."

"Right! Sorry..." Raising her staff, a glowing white light coated Robin's shoulder.

"Thanks." He flexed his arm, a little disbelieving at the perfectly normal sensation.

A red-haired cavalier had ridden up behind them.

"Captain Chrom! Wait! I'm coming! -Tch, I knew I shouldn'ta left 'em." She seemed to roar out a battle cry but was soon interrupted by an frilly blue-haired archer.

They were a little too far away to hear the conversation but Robin assumed that the archer had ticked off the cavalier as he was kicked in the gut.

Yikes. Those boots were steel-tipped.

"Well, any reinforcements are good for this situation so I won't complain," muttered Robin. "Frederick, take care of the Risen archer quickly!" He shouted, knowing that said archer was within Frederick's sights. "Chrom, let's meet up with them now. You know them?"

"I do. That's Sully- A cavalier of the Shepherds. Don't know the frilly guy, though."

"Good to know. There are two axe men and a swordsman approaching- do you see them? Lissa, stay back here for now. Hey! Cavalier! Engage the swordsman that crowd!"

The said cavalier stared at him as if evaluating his allegiance, before following his commands.

Robin drew his sword. "Chrom. Let's both take on one axeman. I'll watch your back, so just focus on the target."

It was good for them that axes were so large and unwieldy that even Risen couldn't toss them around lightly. Weaving around blows, the pair met the two axemen as before they could reach Sully.

The battle didn't take too long. Chrom swiftly executed his target in three hits before backing Robin on his own endeavor.

"Well met, Sully." Chrom started. He sheathed his sword. "I trust you encountered no trouble on the way here?"

"None, sir. Other than this... _pest _who I met on the way here."

"Goddesses and gentlemen, my name is Virion. I am an archer- the archest of archers, in fact. I-"

"Right, right. Put a sock in it, would ya?" Sully groused.

"An archer, huh?" Robin mused. "I'm Robin, by the way. An amnesiac and apparently a tactician, now."

"Hmm... You're alright for a tactician, I guess." Sully said after a while. "We've been looking for one since the Shepherds were formed."

"Really? You don't look like the type that uses tactics... Anyways, it looks like that's the last one. Let's end this quickly, shall we?"

* * *

After the battle, they found the mysterious traveler killing stray Risen.

"It appears that all the creatures have been vanquished, milord."

"Um... I never got to thank you for earlier... Um, thank you. You were very brave."

"You saved my sister's life. My name is Chrom. May I ask yours?"

"...You may call me Marth."

"Marth? After the Hero-King of legend? Well, you certainly fight like one. Who taught you to wield a sword?"

"I'm not here to talk about me. This world is coming close to disaster. Tonight was but the beginning. This is my warning."

"Hey! The world is what now? Wait up!"

Marth did pause for a single moment. "And it would do you well to remember..." The words were laced with some amount of regret. Robin had the strangest feeling that the words were directed at him. "No matter how evil your existence is, it is your actions determine your identity."

With that, the mysterious hero disappeared.

"...What an ominous warning." Robin remarked. "Not one for small talk, is he?"

Frederick spoke afterwards. "It seems as though his skills lie elsewhere. We'll hear of him again... In any case, we should head towards the capital once more. Dawn is approaching."

* * *

**Robin**

**Wanderer**

**Level- 4**

**HP- 23**

**Str- 11**

**Mag- 13**

**Skl- 8**

**Spd- 10**

**Lck-6**

**Def- 9**

**Res- 29**

**Items-**

**Bronze Sword**

_A basic sword. 44 uses left_

**Thunder**

_Basic lightning magic. 38 uses left_

**Dragonstone**

_A magical stone allowing Manaketes to change forms. 50 uses left._

**We get to see a few more items from Robin's bag of tricks. I bet you were expecting the item in the pouch to be a dragonstone but it's NOT heeheh.**

**I admit that I may have contorted the FE damage system a little but I personally think it's realistic enough to pass.**

**I guarantee you that it's not RobinXLucina. Just so you won't be disappointed later.**

**As always, leave a review. What was good, what was bad, and why were you inevitably disappointed? Also, tell me is Robin's character has strayed too much from the original. I'm hoping that it's still somewhat similar, and not completely OOC.**

**Also, Robin abuses lightning magic like no tomorrow. It just kind of happened, I swear.**


	3. One: Reminisce

**I don't own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

Zero.

The countdown reaches down from infinity to nothingness.

A small boy watches with almost dead eyes as men in black robes busy themselves amongst various fields- A woman with a book is looking down at him right now. Other people- people carrying swords, axes, or items with a vaguely familiar symbol on them.

"Robin, repeat what I do." The silver-haired woman says. Funny, when he tries to concentrate on her face, he pulls up nothing.

Regardless, he does as she commands. A black fluctuation of energy crawls towards a target dummy and destroys it.

The woman smiles lightly. Ruffling his hair, she says, "That's right, Robin. Now, go back to your room."

As usual, he does what he is told to, not feeling anything.

**...So you're the new host. It's rather fitting, actually.**

The voice is not new. He knows this much. It's the first time he's ever heard it but he instinctively knows it, like an old friend you have no memories of.

"Who are you?" He mutters in an emotionless manner. He reaches his room and sits down on the rather luxurious bed.

**Tch. Leave it to them to make a vessel so uninteresting. You may call me ***ma. **

Not a pleasantry. A command. The boy nods.

And in a moment, a dark feeling overtakes him. His body is reacting- he can see his skin shifting into scales like they did when ** ***********, but suddenly, as if his heart had decided to stop beating, he stilled. From the pouch he'd clung onto like it was his last lifeline, a white energy absolved the crisis.

An indescribable noise that could only be thought of as 'annoyed' resounds within him.

**It seems your Heart isn't reacting to me. Very well, it seems I'll have to take the more... extensive route about this.**

The boy tilts his head.

**Do you get a feeling when you are kicked down by others?**

The tone of voice had changed very suddenly. From a powerful voice, almost godlike, to the tone of a teacher, in less than seconds. Some inner part of him screamed not to trust the voice- that it was just manipulating him- but he was interested enough to ignore it.

The boy nods. He was taught to ignore these 'feelings'- useless, the man who he called 'father' had said- but they were still _there_, so to speak.

**You see, that's something interesting called 'anger...' It's a useful tool for manipulating human hearts.**

It was in this manner, from an alien, inner voice, that the small child had learned 'emotions.'

* * *

He widened his eyes suddenly. A dark feeling seemed to be smothering his Heart. He coughed, trying to shake the feeling. What was he dreaming of?

He looked around.

"Shit... Where did Chrom and Lissa go? Frederick, wake up!"

He decided that the mystery could be put off for now.

After all, it was just a dream.

No matter how it left him feeling afterwards.

* * *

**This chapter does not describe a 'real time event' and only provides insight into the existence of a small, emotionless child. The next actual chapter will be released next Wednesday.**


	4. 3-1 City of Sheep

**GUESS WHO'S BACK! It's uh, next Wednesday, right?**

**/gunned down on the spot**

**Name changed. Looks a little more serious now. Technically should be 'The Anathema of Our Nature' but it sounds better this way.**

**For pairings I'll admit I chose some of the main ones as kind of common, though I did abstain from RobinxLucina as I said I would. But there _are _rarepairs.**

**(darkchuckle)**

**I don't own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

Two people sat around a fire in the forest. The stars were out, and the recent cataclysm had just ended.

The lady with some light shade of hair non-discernible through fire rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure this is the right thing to do."

The white-haired young man raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Morgan. I trust your judgement but you know that's not what I meant."

Morgan sighed, running a hand through her hair. "None of us accounted for Grima following us through the portal, Inigo. Father's natural mental resistance wouldn't have been able to resist a direct take-over from Grima even with the power of Naga's sacred gemstone. We came to stop the destruction, not accelerate it."

"Even so, using a 'memory sealing' curse to force his Heart of Grima into dormancy causes a multitude of other problems, doesn't it?"

Morgan opened a green book that seemed to radiate magic. She flipped the pages as though she knew all the contents by heart. "I normally wouldn't leave it to fate, but Chrom's tendency to help strangers should stop... certain things from surfacing. After thinking through all the other plans, this one has the best short-term turnout." She yawned, closing the green book and brushing down her black cloak. "Besides, I failed to kill Grima in the end, so I suppose it should be my job to fix things."

Inigo stood up, offering her his hand. "Morgan, what happened there wasn't your fault. If you had killed Grima, you would have..." He shook his head. It wouldn't do to go down that path. "Ever since he passed along his last message..."

Morgan laughed, standing up without taking Inigo's help. "It's fine. There's a reason why I'm the one who makes the plans, you know?"

The looked around. It was dark, but that wasn't necessarily unwelcome.

"Alright. That 'Marth' character's probably going towards Ylisstol, and they probably thinks we won't interfere with what they're doing. That'll put us in..."

Inigo shrugged. " Plegia, probably. Near the border...?"

Morgan snapped her fingers. "Themis, then."

So it was.

* * *

Robin flipped open the green book.

The paper seemed well-used so he must have read it a lot. Actually, based on the shape and style of the pages, it must have been a journal, parallel to his expectations.

It was bright enough to look at the contents, and he did so eagerly, wanting to know more about his hidden past.

Unfortunately, as he turned to the first page:

_XX/XX/XX_

_This is Robin. I recently purchased a journal as to record my wanderings. After..._

The page after that one was ripped out.

As was the next.

And for another 60 or so pages, there were only sloppily removed papers that had small fragments of words where the paper touched the binding. Some were more complete than others- but that seemed to only be due to the carelessness of the act.

_Pleg-_

_-ship fare i-_

_-stranger-_

_-goes by Sa-_

_-tered Val-_

If anything, the journal's incomplete entries only served to aggravate him further.

Echoes of distant memories stayed at the very edge of his mind where they could be glanced at but not seen.

"Robin." The strong voice of Chrom called out. "Ylisstol is ahead."

* * *

Robin gazed upon the capital of Ylisse.

People walked the streets in content, carefree and seemingly without any worries. Chatter was the general background noise for the view.

As for the city itself, it was full of stone buildings of varying sizes. Lines hung from the windows either drying clothes or advertising goods for one store or another. Street vendors sold many things, such as dresses, fruits, and even magic tomes. Adding to the auspicious setting was the blue sky with wandering clouds sparsely littered across it.

Robin turned his gaze up beyond the streets. Stone walls with houses seemed to tower above the group, and above that-

A castle on a hill.

"So this is... Ylisstol." said Robin a little breathlessly.

"And not a sign of the quake that befell us in the forest, thank Naga." Frederick stated rather cheerfully (or at least, compared to how Robin had seen him before).

"So, Robin!"

Robin tilted his head and turned towards Lissa. "Hm?"

"How is Ylisstol?" She stated happily as she stepped gracefully.

It seemed that reaching the capital had put everyone in a good mood.

Robin chuckled. "It's... amazing, actually. I guess that it isn't my place to say anything, but I couldn't really imagine this many people in one place." He blinked. It appeared as if there was a procession going through the streets.

"The exalt has come to see us!" Some old man shouted joyously.

"Exalt, huh... That's your ruler, is it not?" He tilted his head. A platinum-blonde haired woman smiled serenely at her people, protected by but a handful of armored soldiers. "Rather, Ylisstol must enjoy a great amount of peace if its ruler can walk the streets nearly unguarded.

"Indeed. Her name is Lady Emmeryn." Frederick narrowed his eyes when Robin made his second observation. "And while the Exalt may seem unguarded, any attacker can be swiftly neutralized by our skilled guard."

The threat (warning?) was somewhat obvious.

"The exalt embodies peace- our most precious quality. What kingdom would this be if the ruler lived in fear of his own subjects?" Frederick asked rhetorically. "Long ago, when the Fell Dragon attempted to lay our world to ruin, it was the Exalt and the Divine Dragon that brought us salvation. Emmeryn reminds us of the hopes that they represented."

"And besides, with Plegia invading our borders, the people need her. She keeps Ylisse from descending into war, keeping our citizens calm." said Chrom.

"The Ylisseans are lucky to have such a kind ruler." Robin said, the observation ending the topic.

Lissa interrupted happily. "Not to mention, she's the best big sister ever!"

Robin raised an eyebrow. "...You're royals? Though, I suppose it's too late to call you 'Prince Chrom' and 'Lady Lissa' now." He gave a mock bow and stepped away. "And were you really referring to the Ylissean people as 'sheep' when you called yourself Shepherds?"

Chrom chuckled. "In a sense, we are Shepherds. We guide the sheep and keep them away from wolves."

Frederick asked curiously: "As you know milord and milady are of noble heritage, would it not do to give them the proper respect?"

Robin shrugged. "As you say, Frederick."

"No, I've never been one for formalities." Chrom reassured him. "Just refer to me as you have before. Ah, Emm is heading back to the palace. Would you like to meet her?"

* * *

The palace was grand.

Well, naturally it was. That was to be expected seeing as it was a _castl_e. Green tapestries hung on great archways, and red carpet lined the ground. Torches were placed on every other archway, lightning the palace from every corner. It was regal, with a sense of tranquility flowing through the air.

And it really irked Robin. Like a nagging buzzing sound, the feeling of 'divinity' was seriously bothering him. He wasn't going to say anything, though. He straightened his back and developed a smooth gait, though it felt strange for a while.

He wasn't sure where he learned it, but it was at the least confident and he imagined he could imitate class like this.

With that in mind, he tried his best to ignore it- but was definitely failing at it.

It obviously must have shown, because Chrom placed an arm on his shoulder. "No need to be nervous, Robin. Emmeryn is kind and fair; a just soul such as yours will be judged favorably."

Honestly, he felt like something in that sentence was definitely wrong. "...When did you get such a silver tongue, Chrom?"

The prince, reviewing his previous words, scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Haha, it was just in the moment is all. It's not always the right time to be blunt." he turned back forward again.

Surprisingly wise for what he'd seen of the prince. If one could stir up common folk and noblemen alike, they could make their country bend over backwards for them.

Though he suspected that the prince would never make a request like that. Pity, really, but it wasn't like he was a prince to disagree.

"How have your travels fared, Chrom?" He turned to face the serene voice. "Lissa, have you been safe?" The cleric pouted a little at this, but shrugged and nodded affirmatively.

The Exalt was a graceful woman, with wise eyes and a religious-looking symbol on her forehead. She was smiling at her brother, who smiled back.

"It's been smooth sailing, Emm. How fares the kingdom?"

"Quite well. We continue to enjoy peace and fair weather. Our guard has not had to deal with many invaders as of late."

"I see. That's good, Emm. And of you?"

A gracious smile. "Oh? I'm as I've always been, but thank you for asking. I see you've brought a guest."

"Ah. This is Robin." Robin made a small gesture that could either be seen as a downturn of the head of a minuscule bow. He hoped he succeeded in telegraphing the latter. "While we know not the place of his birth or the circumstances of his arrival, he's shown a will to keep Ylissean lives safe."

Robin shook his head. That certainly didn't sound right.

"Sorry, your Grace. It wasn't of any loyalty to your country or your people, but somehow despite having no past, I couldn't stand watching such senseless destruction."

It wasn't smart to say, but perhaps he should clear that up before he was signed up as a guard or something, though Frederick's eyes narrowed at this.

She closed her eyes, perhaps processing the information before opening them again and bowing. "...So perhaps not a protector, but a kind soul nonetheless. Either way, I thank you for aiding my brother in protecting the Halidom."

"Thank you, but I accomplished no great feat."

Frederick sighed. "Well, with pleasantries over, I'm sure there must be some things that must be discussed with the royal court. Be well, Robin." Running a hand through his hair, the Great Knight shot a beseeching look in his direction.

"Very well... I'll go look at the shops for a while, I suppose."

* * *

The Ylisstol marketplace was very lively, filled with sights and sounds that set his heart beating and made his head somewhat dizzy. A man selling bread, another showing off their various silks and other cloths, a man playing some strange brass instrument on the street corner.

He found his gold pouch-he had obviously not settled down when Chrom had met him-and traversed the marketplace.

"Uh, excuse me sir? Can I have this, uh..." Robin pointed mutely at some sort of cake, hoping he didn't look like a little kid.

"That's a cinnamon roll, dear. 23 coppers." The woman at the counter got a small napkin and placed the roll on it.

10 coppers for a silver, 10 silvers for a gold. When put that way, the shops selling swords and tomes seemed so much more like money grubbing sharks. Either way, he handed over the money and received the warm bakery item.

"Say... You look a lot like that other girl who passed by here."

He tore his eyes away from the treat to give her a quizzical stare.

"You know, red eyes, pointy ears, sharp teeth? You can't _not_ know that there's another person with nearly the same features." The baker prompted him.

He shook his head. "My, um, my memory isn't so great..." He absently look a bite of the roll.

It was delicious. He felt himself salivating, but held back for fear of appearing to be a savage. "Um, if you don't have anything better to do, when did you see her?" Taking a large bite, he stared at the baker.

"Oh, thirty or so minutes ago, she was walking down that road. Humph... they just let little kids run around wherever they want nowadays..." The baker started to mutter at this point, so Robin left the shop.

He headed in the direction pointed, until the shops ended and it was simply a green area with some benches.

Disappointingly, he found nothing of the aforementioned description.

Someone tapped his shoulder. Turning, he felt a familiar, yet somehow not unwelcome frigid blast.

Something about the chill felt like home.

The girl was short-dollish, even, the top of her head being about level with his diaphragm, making it a small wonder she could even tap his shoulder. She had tanned skin and long white hair like someone from an exotic desert climate, and wore modest magician's robes with a strange collar of dark feathers and iron greaves on legs and arms. Ruby eyes glittered with some benign malice, and purple marks on her face completed her passively threatening appearance.

Or, as passively threatening as someone who couldn't be older than ten would be.

"Well, dear brother. It's been a while, hasn't it?" It sounded so much more mature than one would expect... and perhaps overtly hostile as well.

Robin's words caught in his throat.

A strange meeting in casual circumstances.

"...I'm sorry, but I can't remember you. Perhaps at some other time..."

A sigh, and a raised eyebrow. "Really. Somehow I thought that one of us could avoid getting hit by a memory seal, but this work is actually very well done. Who have you met over the years, I wonder...?"

But she shook her head. "We'll have time to talk later. I don't doubt you have things to ask."

And like that, she turned on her heel and left, sparing him no quarter to talk.

* * *

He walked back up the hill.

"Well, that was strange."

"What was strange?"

He froze and turned. Lissa was standing there with her hands behind her back in a way that made him feel like he was going to be the subject of some great misfortune later.

"Nothing..." He shot a sideways glance, but turned back. "Need something?"

"Well... I've been looking around for you! There's something you need to see."

"...Really."

"Hey, stop it with that suspicious look! I'm only taking you to the Shepherd's Garrison!

The garrison was slightly offside Ylisse; smart in that the people wouldn't see any obvious display of military strength and they could mobilize quickly. Still, it was less a garrison and more like a small hangout for people who fought.

"Here we are! The Shepherd's Garrison."

He felt oddly distressed by the number of times the garrison had been mentioned in the last two or three lines.

"Go on, make yourself at home."

Walking into the center of the room, he turned to look left and right. Tables, vulneraries, and barrels seemed to be scattered haphazardly across the room. There were a few training dummies and pieces of armor simply lying around as well. Some heavily armored knight with closed eyes stood in the corner, deathly still. He didn't make so much as a sound, in such a way that Robin wouldn't have doubted it if they'd called him a statue of a knight rather than a real one.

In front of him was a woman with a wing hair clip in her gray hair and some shirtless guy with spiky blonde hair.

"Oh, Lissa, you've made me worry for days on end! Are you alright?" A woman with proud stature and blonde hair in strange drills rushed in, flagging down Lissa.

"Huh? Oh. Hi, Maribelle!"

"Just, 'Hi?' My hair's been turning gray waiting for you!"

"You shouldn't worry that much. I can handle a battle or t- Not a word out of you, Robin."

He closed his mouth. Maribelle took note of him, but the spiky-haired man spoke in brash tones before she could say anything.

"Yo, where's Chrom? Bet he had some trouble without ol' Teach and his axe!"

"Teach, huh? Heh, I didn't think you could teach someone to be less smart."

He laughed, not quite getting it. "Don't doubt the Vaike!"

No one spoke. As such, one might have heard the crackle of thunder as Vaike came to a realization. His smile slowly morphed into an affronted grimace.

"...Hey!"

"Sorry, Lissa, but when will the Captain come back?" The woman seemed either very anxious or just lacking in self respect... possibly both. Maribelle sighed.

"The poor dear's been scanning the horizon all day for him, from when she started training till when we sat to eat... She might have earned less bruises blindfolded."

Lissa giggled. "Aw... It's sweet of you to worry for him!"

In Robin's humble opinion, Chrom was a distant third in the list of people to worry for, the first being himself (naturally). To be honest, if he was handed a legendary blade and told to deal with bandits, he would be insulted if someone worried about his safety.

Probably.

"O-of course I'd worry! He's our captain AND the prince!"

There was that. Okay, distant second.

"By the way, who's the stranger?"

"No one's stranger than you, Vaike... But let me introduce Robin! If you ignore the sass and the amnesia, he's a pretty good guy! Chrom's made him our tactician; you should see his strategies at work." With a flourish, she waved at Robin, who was particularly unenthused at this point.

"Strategies, sure, but can he do this?"

It was the loudest burp he'd ever heard. He smiled uneasily.

"My belches are neither loud nor common, but uh... you do you."

As Vaike's grimace began to reappear Lissa waved at him. "I told you to ignore the sass, didn't I?"

"Vaike! That was disgusting! Must you pollute the entire room with your idiocy? And you, Robin... I hope you didn't treat the royal family with this level of rudeness."

As Lissa was about to say something probably along the lines of 'you don't know the half of it' Robin scoffed. "Rude? I'm hardly going to take that criticism from someone who doesn't listen to themselves."

Maribelle chuckled darkly. "So you think me rude? I'll show you rude, Pl-"

Lissa stepped between them. "Woah, everybody calm down! Sheesh, both of you could try warming up a bit."

Sumia smiled. "Don't worry, just give it time."

The just kind of stood around for a while until Chrom walked in. With a hand at his hip, he smiled.

"Oh, you've returned, Captain! I was- we were-"

She rushed forward as if she was unironically trying to give him a hug. Robin watched impassively as the front of her boot straight slid back on the stone and she faceplanted.

He tried not to laugh. It was very hard.

"Sumia! Are you alright? Um... was it those boots again?"

"No! Yes! I mean..."

She heaved a sigh.

"Anyways..." Chrom gave her a worried look but went on. "We march towards Ragna Ferox by morning."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "I've been saying this a lot, but _what's that?_"

Sumia answered. "A unified kingdom to the north. Apparently inhabited by barbarians."

"Not barbarians. They're warriors, and we'll needs their strength to deal with this menace."

In Robin's humble opinion, every word that came out of the prince's mouth sounded like it came from a storybook but bah, what did he know?

"Typically, the exalt herself would make the trip, but in these times it may... cause some unrest. So we've been left the task."

He smiled. "Now, you don't have to go if you don't want to, so do we have any volunteers?"

Rather unsurprisingly, everyone wanted to go.

"And of you, Robin? You're hardly a Shepherd, so you shouldn't feel obligated. However, we could use your tactics for..."

He trailed off there, feeling his words contradict themselves.

Robin smiled. "No worries, _Captain._ I'm looking to get a survey of the lands, whether or not I stay."

"Then it's settled. Everyone prepare to leave by the break of dawn!"

* * *

It was bright out, early in the morning. Not such that the sun was just coming over the horizon, but not so far that the sun was overhead.

Too bright.

Too early.

Robin groaned, kicking the grass.

"I don't know, Chrom. When you said 'break of dawn', _why was it only me and Frederick here at the break of dawn_?"

Chrom yawned and rubbed a bleary eye.

He wondered if he ever contemplated punching a royal over sleep before.

"Peace, Robin. Indeed, I had planned to come before the sun rose, yet when it occurred to me that the other Shepherds have a... history of taking their time, I took a few liberties.

"Ohhhhh no, Chrom!" Sully's horse clopped in, her fiery visage gleaming. Chrom stepped back. "I heard from Lissa that you nearly beheaded the servant who was sent to wake you up!"

At that Chrom lost his smile temporarily and Robin settled back into an easy smile.

"The sun wasn't even up! I did it in my sleep!"

"Oh, but that's hardly better!"

Frederick sighed and turned to Robin. "Do we intend to take count of the participants?"

Robin blinked. "Uhm... I never got a roster or anything, so I imagine it'd be up to you. But do you need any help?" He offered-rather tacked on as an afterthought.

The knight commander raised an eyebrow. "Hmph. I appreciate the thought, but I can't imagine a way you could help without the roster."

"Well... You could hand me the ros-" He looked up and back down. "I'll just... leave you to it, I guess."

After Chrom, they all trickled in rather slowly. The was some unjustified freak out, but nothing big.

"Stahl? Where's Stahl? I imagine Miriel will take her time getting there, but he should be... Who was supposed to tell him about the expedition?"

A nervous chuckle. "Oh... The Vaike was told that he would catch up later, with Miriel... Uh, don't worry about it!" The fighter grinned, if a little off kilter.

"If you say so..."

With that, the march was on.

* * *

Somewhere up the north road, they found themselves accosted by a band of Risen.

_Both to the South and the North of Ylisse... Small miracle that chaos hasn't hit the capital yet..._

Chrom grit his teeth as Robin gave a calculating glare. They were blocking the bridge, so it would be a standard clash between two forces. No flanking nor surprise attacks, given the flat plains.

"Gods, I didn't think I'd be stepping into the role so soon... No need for chatter! Chrom, Vaike, try to take the left field, with the swordsman!. Let them take the first strike but do not let them strike again!" There was also an axe-man, but regardless of which one it attempted to attack, it would fare worse in the confrontation. There was... a figure in the far left thicket? Gods, he needed a better view.

"Frederick and Sully, take the right side! You can lead the attack but don't go too far out!"

That would be fine for now. The main problem was getting across the bridge without getting swarmed.

"Virion, to me! I just need a better view of the battlefield, but can you get a good shot on incoming enemies?"

He actually turned this time, without making any extravagant pointing gestures. Virion smirked and bowed.

"Indeed, sir Robin. Your sharp eyes and my able archery will make quite the pair!"

Robin rolled his eyes, but smiled.

"Lissa, it's probably best to keep an eye on Chrom and Vaike right now. If someone hollers for assistance, make sure you have a safe path to get to them first. If they're bleeding out, well, we don't need two people bleeding out for the price of one."

"Roger!"

Was it really fine with just seven people? There had to be at least fifteen Risen, and most were on the other side of that bridge. From what he'd noticed, Chrom was making quick work of the swordsman, with Vaike beheading it. Frederick, naturally, had little problem, except for the odd risen that got caught on his lance without dying. Sully was drawing out more of them, but neither of them were really in a position to be ambushed. Lissa had moved over between Chrom and Vaike to heal them.

Robin and Virion traveled slowly down the main road, Virion stopping for a second to aim an arrow at one of the swordsmen attacking Chrom.

He whistled when it struck true.

"Wow, I can only hope that your future relationships will be as steady as your arm."

Virion chuckled and flipped his hair back. "To be honest, from you I'm not certain to label it insult or compliment, but thank you nonetheless. We've strayed... quite aways away from the main force, haven't we?"

Robin nodded.

"I think we should still be outside of most of the creatures' movement ranges, but I need to assess the situation... on the other end of that bridge before we're done clearing out this side."

"Mm. A wise idea indeed. Say-do you see those figures riding on from whence we came?"

A groan. "Great, are we being flanked? ...No, wait, that's probably..."

A knight in green and a magician with what should frankly be labelled a witch hat came riding up. They approached the spot where Chrom and Vaike had finally finished clearing out the last of that side. It was still smooth sailing from the two cavalry on the right side.

"Captain Chrom! Why..." He huffed, even though technically he was just riding on his horse. "Why was I the last to know about the expedition?"

Chrom turned a sideways glare towards Vaike, who stepped back and laughed nervously.

Robin tuned them out. He shouted in the same direction.

"Hey! Lissa, we're clear on this end of the river! Give aid to whoever needs it!"

From there, it was rather smooth sailing. The knight in green was introduced as Stahl, the mage Miriam... though internally Robin would admit he was already using it interchangeably with 'nerd'.

"Alright, the bridge is really narrow, so..." He thought for a moment. "Alright. Me and Chrom will stand in the front, and Frederick and Sully can stand behind and attack with their lances. Virion, I hope you're up for some long range shooting." Robin pointed to an inlet further downstream and he nodded. It wasn't going to be the most accurate of shots, but still nothing for the archest of archers. "We'll switch if in danger and Lissa can heal."

Chrom nodded, smiling. "Sounds like a plan. Alright, Shepherds! Let's wrap this up!"

Robin grinned, brandishing his own sword, tome stashed away in his cloak. He hadn't been doing much fighting, after all. "What grandstanding words, Chrom. Ready to back them up?"

They broke right through the first risen, and as the rest shambled towards them, Robin found himself on the defensive for a while, but Frederick's lance could keep them from hounding him.

The trickled through, but the Shepherd's force continued to advance, soon, there were only two left.

Chrom looked at him, feeling incredibly tight in the current formation. "For someone who can make such successful strategies, you really dislike being a part of them. Aren't you the one who should be worried about backing your words up?"

Robin muttered something along the lines of 'cheeky blueblood' but the only reason even he could hear it was because of his enhanced senses.

The risen chief was a rather simple affair, Chrom at the front and Robin supporting from the left flank with his spells. The hand axes-which would have definitely decapitated someone if they would ever hit anything- passed harmlessly beside Robin's body. He muttered the incantation for another orb of black lightning to appear, and Chrom followed it up before it even struck.

In seconds, it was over.

"Lissa, get that staff ready. Every man counts!"

Robin stood and admired his handiwork-no, their handiwork.

"Hey, Fredricson..." He called.

"Do not call me... that. But what do you need?"

Robin smiled at the rebuke. "That's not the last you've heard of it. But hey, the Risen have appeared on the north side and the south side, but not in Ylisse itself... That doesn't bode well, don't you think?"

The north, south. Plegian invaders from the west... Even a child could see only one safe direction.

Frederick thought for a second before grimacing. "Your awareness does you credit, tactician. We need Ragna Ferox's help now more than ever."

Robin stretched and looked ahead at the road.

"Well, night hasn't fallen yet. Let's prepare to march again soon."

When he heard the resounding groans he admitted that he didn't want to walk anymore either.

* * *

**Robin**

**Wanderer**

**Level- 5**

**HP- 24**

**Str- 11**

**Mag- 14**

**Skl- 9**

**Spd- 11**

**Lck-6**

**Def- 9**

**Res- 30**

**Items-**

**Bronze Sword**

_A basic sword. 39 uses left_

**Thunder**

_Basic lightning magic. 36 uses left_

**Dragonstone**

_A magical stone allowing Manaketes to change forms. 50 uses left._

**Finally got in the groove to write after marathonning FE: Fates (I played Revelations first, then Birthright then Conquest) though it's perhaps less relevant now, I guess? Oh well. Though now I feel unoriginal because the MC _actually turned out to be a dragon_, huh?**

**also tbh I wanted Smash!Robin to just be Grima**

**would have been great: "GRIMA NEARS THE ENDGAME" and you could summon risen and use dem dark spikes and shiz**

**Robin's mother confirmed for ice dragon.**

**I decided this because Aversa's birth date is in November, which (from Binding Blade to Radiant Dawn) was the ice affinity, where my Robin (named Anathema for the sake of the play through) is always an August birthday. Not that it really matters, huh? And if you didn't catch it, Chibi!Aversa. **

**I do know that canonically she's some village girl who was kidnapped because she had Shadowgift or whatever, but eh. Fanfiction, amirite? Same with Vaike's axe. I traded his axe for Stahl.**

**Also, the reason I stopped writing was because I got tired of writing scene descriptions and trying to fix up dialogue lines. It was just a slippery slope from there.**

**Figuring out how to write Sumia tripping was actually very difficult until I realized 'wait a second people in FE:A don't have feet I can _use_ this'.**

**"Do you really call your people sheep?" -Robin 2016**


	5. 4-1 Frozen Longfort

**BOOM. 5K WORDS TOOK ME ROUGHLY A YEAR. THE NEXT 5K WILL TAKE ME ROUGHLY A WEEK. Um, that is, including the next chapter I haven't published. I want to get this done because Awakening miraculously hasn't gone out of style and I want to ride the wave until it crashes and i quit again. Searching up random trivia like mummification and hairstyles is still kind of odd, even though I've been at this stuff for a while.**

**Though I'll admit that I'm averse to simply pumping out content, but whatever. It's a flood of fics, mine got second page in a day and a half.**

**I'll display Robin's current supports at the top and stats at the bottom. I won't tell you when a support conversation occurs, but you should be able to guess.**

**B Supports- Chrom**

**C Supports- Lissa, Frederick, Aversa**

**I don't own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

"I'm telling you, I think it's a bad idea for you to let me go near it."

"Come now, Robin. What's the harm?"

"Well it just attacked Chrom so... You know what, fine, whatever."

But the moment Robin brought his hand up to touch the pegasus, it began to shriek and move wildly, before inevitably collapsing on the ground.

"Ohhh boy."

Chrom placed a hand on his shoulder. "Robin, I don't know what you've done and frankly I don't care, but _Sumia is going to kill us._"

He grinned weakly. "You're not wrong. Let's just... get marching before anyone notices, alright?"

"Sounds like a plan to me."

They marched (definitely not ran) off, hoping Sumia didn't figure out who caused this to happen by the time her party reached the still twitching mare.

* * *

It was cold and Robin loved every second of it. Frost bit into his skin, making him shiver in delight. The sky was cloudy and the wind occasionally whipped up, increasing turbulence.

He was almost tempted to take off his coat. Almost.

"Gah! It's freezing out here!"

But apparently he was the only one to hold the sentiment.

"Stand beside my horse, milady. The wind shouldn't reach you here."

They walked up to a fortress that must have stretched for miles. There were watchtowers at the top of the gate and seemingly endless walls. Robin made an estimated guess that there were archers up on the rooftops, along with whatever else. There were probably guards patrolling the front, but he didn't want to look so eager for a fight before they'd even talked to anyone.

"Well, this is the Longfort."

Aptly named.

"This stretches all the way across the border of Ylisse and Ragna Ferox."

Frederick nodded. "As of late, the ruling khans have grown rather wary of foreigners. But try not to assume hostility if they aren't openly hospitable. Try to... be diplomatic."

Robin rolled his eyes and turned to Chrom.

"I'm hardly the greatest negotiator, but I'll try my best."

With that, they marched toward the entrance.

"...Milord, it sounds as though the Feroxi Guard are mobilizing. Perhaps we should prepare as well."

"What? Why so soon?" Chrom gritted his teeth.

"Naga knows why, but they look ready to let fly at any time. Let's not go in with too large of a force... With any luck, Robin will know what to do."

Robin nodded. "I have some ideas... Let me survey for a few minutes."

* * *

As it turns out, wind is incredibly reliant on heat.

And for some reason when he reached out to touch the ice, it moved into his palm. Was it some trait of his he didn't know? Perhaps just a trick of the light?

He considered it for a second. Snow continued to gather in his palm, not melting for one reason or another.

He wanted to move it over... _there_, so...

He wasn't exactly sure what to do, but he knew what he wanted and attempted to will it into reality.

A gust of wind whipped up, _opposing_ the steady bluster. The snow fell out of his palm.

Huh. Perhaps it would be useful against the archers? No, they were used to adjusting for the wi-

Exactly.

With a grin, he headed back to the group.

Chrom was already engaged in a conversation.

"I've got lancers at the ready!"

Frederick spoke after the knight behind the gate.

"Hold, milady! We're not here to fight! The Exalt wants us to discuss a mutual interest."

The knight growled. "My only interest is in keeping Ragna Ferox safe from you brigands! Many like you have dressed as Ylisseans and attempted to cross our border. You are not the first, and will not be the last!"

Frederick had an affronted look, but before he could shout, Chrom stepped forward, pointing to his shoulder.

"Look, if this isn't enough proof for you, you're going to have to tell us how you want to settle this. We simply want to talk, but on your land, it's your rules."

"Haha! Well spoken, but I cannot simply let you through. We'll settle this- the Feroxi way!"

"Tch... Emmeryn won't like this..."

"Attack!"

The lancers all tossed their javelins... to be blown away by a snowy draft. Chrom turned to his side to see Robin holding up his hands.

The tactician smiled blankly. "Don't ask, because I couldn't say. We'll probably want to split up and take the two doors on the side. Hey, Stahl! Do you know what happened to the rest of your group?"

Stahl laughed weakly. Sumia saw a collapsed pegasus on the road... and Miriel wanted to inspect its origins. They told me to come ahead though."

Robin sweatdropped. Damn, it really had come back to bite them! He shook his head. "That's fine, we don't want them to see us bringing an overwhelming force. Frederick, Virion and I will take the right side. Chrom, team up with Kellam and and slowly push the left back! Lissa, you're with Stahl, Vaike, go support Chrom and Kellam when you can."

"...Kellam?"

Robin rolled his eyes. "I know he's standing very still but the joke's run his course. The _giant suit of armor _on the left side! Do you not see it?"

Chrom relaxed. "Alright, I'll follow your plan. We'll deal with these petty border disputes and move on!"

Robin whistled. He sure knew how to lead a crowd.

He would have to leave them to it. The wind was blowing too harshly to shout any commands and past the thicket it was hard to say anything. In the future, he might want to drill them on what to do _before _the battle started.

...As long as they let him survey the field.

Frederick led the charge and Virion traded arrows with one of the archers. Absently, he sent a lightning bolt at a fighter that Frederick hadn't finished off.

"One problem, my friend."

Virion spoke up, them having cleared the right side. There was a knight in front of the door.

"Hm? We can defeat the knight blocking the door, probably."

"No, not that. I just... don't see any keys on his direct person. We'd spend ages removing the pieces from his person just to open a door."

Robin snapped his fingers. "Ah! Yeah, I got it. Back me up, Virion. Just shoot an arrow at his armor."

He shrugged and complied. It barely made a dent, but Robin was already blasting an orb of lightning, before leaping into the air like some animal and kicking the already disoriented knight. The knight landed on its butt, clearly unable to get leverage on the man currently standing on him.

He drew his blade and pointed at the spot between the helmet and the rest of the armor.

"Hey, we don't mean you any harm, but... Want to open the door for your new guests?"

A shaky nod. Robin jumped off of him. Virion whistled and Frederick raised an eyebrow.

"An astonishing level of grace from our tactician!" The knight rubbed its neck as it busied itself with the keys. "Say, what do you think about playing a strategy game with me later...?"

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Well... Certainly, but what kind?"

Virion laughed. "Oh, I have a board. It represents two historical models of armies that are agreed to be evenly matched. I'll brief you on the rules when we're done with this."

Robin smiled. "I think I'd like that. You... Are you sure you know what you're getting into?"

A challenging glint appeared in Virion's eye. "Oh, of course I do..."

The knight opened the door and possibly out of thanks or just to ridicule the man, he dropkicked the knight again, leaving them on their back like a particularly distressed tortoise. He heard a groan, but shrugged. They were competent soldiers, they could get up on their own.

The rest was just clean-up. He spend a good deal of time waiting for Chrom's group to come up, but they had put a heavily armored man at the front rather than a horse unit. More importantly, Lissa was riding behind Stahl, and while they weren't dying, everything counts.

They met at the center, having knocked out most of the guards. There was pretty much only the fortress commander, Raimi still standing.

Robin smiled.

"We've done well so far, but I think perhaps you should fight the commander on your own... You know. To prove a point."

Chrom nodded.

"Right you are, Robin. Commander Raimi, I challenge you to a duel!"

The knight grinned. "Is that so... Then I accept!"

Robin left them to it as he made sure everyone was back in condition. Who knew what would happen next?

* * *

"Forgive me, Prince Chrom. I truly thought you to be brigand impostors. But your battle was greater than any of their flukes! I'll let the capital know of your arrival and escort you there personally."

Chrom nodded and bowed slightly. "We would appreciate that. Thank you."

Robin grinned sardonically. "Well, if beating people down really made them more polite..."

Lissa sighed.

Frederick turned to him, a lecturing look in his eyes. But upon seeing the grin, his shoulders sunk, just a little. "In Feroxi, strength is far more important than words. I shouldn't have overestimated their type of diplomacy..."

"Right, so can we get going?" Lissa asked.

"Well, it's not getting any warmer."

Robin supposed he shouldn't begrudge them that.

The biting chill still raised his spirits as they began to walk. "Hey, Chrom." He called.

Chrom turned to him. "Hm? What is it, Robin?"

"Two things, actually. For one, it seems that I can control the snow and ice around here... but I can't figure out for the life of me _why._ And second... Will Sumia and Miriel know that we left?"

Chrom cursed.

Luckily, as they said that, a pegasus came from the sky, someone with mage robes on it as well.

"Captain! I'm here for the fight! Are we-"

He swallowed, looking at the ornery beast.

"You... You just missed it, Sumia. I see that the beast has... taken to you."

She gave a broad grin, which honestly put shivers to Robin's spine for some reason.

"Oh, but he's such a sweetie! He was just... very scared of something. I'm not sure what."

If it was even possible, Robin shrunk further into his coat.

"In any case, we march for the capital of Ferox now. Can you keep up or should we rest?"

Sumia dusted herself off and looked back to the pegasus. "Yes, I think we can go now."

* * *

For all the time they were on the road, Robin couldn't help but want to explore the city. It was still quite cold, but there were many people out (not as many as Ylisse), going about their business in heavy fur that seemed to cover just about nothing that actually mattered.

If he were allowed to just speak freely, it kind of looked like a city of thugs.

With that in mind, he just sort of walked down the streets, hoping to find a bakery or the like. His breath frosted in the air, condensing into small ice crystals.

He flipped open his Thunder tome, just to see the inside of it. There were runes inscribed on every page, but they were probably of magical origin or they shouldn't have costed so much. The runes didn't mean much on their own, but he noticed a few...

He pulled out his green book and flipped past the ripped pages. The rest were mostly blank, but they occasionally had similar looking runes... had he been creating spells?

...No, that didn't seem quite right. He stuffed the book back into his coat pocket and continued looking through the thunder tome.

Or he would have, if his hood wasn't grabbed and dragged into a darker street.

There was a big guy- bald, covered in furs, a dagger in his hand.

Robin might have been in trouble.

"You know, I was really conflicted about having to mug people... but having a Plegian as my first target just makes this _so _much easier."

He wasn't cornered, per se, but his tome had been dropped when he was walking and his sword was at his side.

"Just give me your money and no one wi-"

A woman had run up to the thief and kicked him hard in the back... wow, that was rather flexible. spinning the man around to face another dagger.

Robin gathered a snowdrift outside of the alley and sent it pouring in. In truth, he'd been gathering it for a while now, but honestly it had been entirely icicles before and if they'd gone any farther the man would have been crucified in... quite the _blood chilling_ manner.

Ugh. Where did that come from?

The woman shrieked. Oh, right, he'd forgotten that snow was blind to things like friend and floe. The man toppled back, sent off kilter by the accompanying blast of wind.

He sighed. "Damn. Thanks for the help...?"

She looked up. Pink hair in a ponytail and hands clasped together.

"S-sorry! I overheard this person's friends daring him to "mug some Plegian", but I think he's drunk... Olivia, by the way."

He looked down and muttered to himself. "Great, first day in Ferox and I've already been bailed out by some lady who looks like she'd have trouble talking to an innkeeper." He looked up and spoke louder. "Well! I won't harm him, but really, you didn't have to go out of your way." He smiled. "So... I suppose this is the part where I try to repay you and you run off, embarrassed for some reason no one understands?"

She giggled. "Hey! It's not fair for you to just assume things like that! Though... Hey, you're with in the group that the Prince of Ylisse leads, aren't you?"

Robin nodded. "That'd be me. Why?" He started walking out, reclaiming the Thunder tome that he'd dropped when he hood was grabbed.

Olivia blinked, before shaking her head. "Oh, no particular reason! Many people I know are simply wondering how the Prince's 'Shepherds' fight, and I've seen... well, whatever this is."

She pointed at the snowdrift and he laughed.

"Oh! No, I normally just fight with a sword and tome. You might see it later, how about you?"

She spoke. "Oh, I kind of... I dance, but Basilio-the West Khan, he says it has some effect on the battlefield." Her face reddened as she muttered. "I hardly think that you'll be fighting anyone in the name of 'diplomacy', but..."

Robin heard this, but he figured that either a normal person wouldn't have heard it or that she didn't mean to say it. "Well, with the way all of these 'diplomatic missions' have gone so far..."

Only one, yeah. But in these times, in this pattern...

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised. We should probably head our separate ways."

Olivia looked up, then left and right. "Oh, shoot! I left longer than I should have. I hope I'll see you again!"

"Robin. Feeling's mutual."

As she ran off, he spoke to himself lightly. "Alright, Note to self: do not tell Chrom you played damsel in distress to some dancer. Wonder where the rest of them are?"

* * *

Lazing about in their rooms, it seemed. Like a bunch of layabouts, they just kind of trained, ate, then slept.

He entered the lobby of their quarters.

Chrom looked up. "Oh, Robin. Did you find anything interesting to do?"

He looked to the side. "Oh... A couple things, I suppose." He said vaguely. Chrom was going to question further, but then, a tan woman with blonde hair walked in and smirked at the whole group.

"Alright, I'm ready to listen to you, Shepherds. State your cause!"

* * *

**Robin**

**Wanderer**

**Level- 7**

**HP- 25**

**Str- 12**

**Mag- 16**

**Skl- 10**

**Spd- 13**

**Lck-6**

**Def- 11**

**Res- 33**

**Items-**

**Bronze Sword**

_A basic sword. 39 uses left_

**Thunder**

_Basic lightning magic. 36 uses left_

**Dragonstone**

_A magical stone allowing Manaketes to change forms. 50 uses left._

**Skills-**

**(Personal) Twisted Funeral**

_Steals half of a random ally's total HP upon unit's HP reaching 0_

**(Lv. 1) Anathema **

_Avoid and Critical Avoid -10 to all enemies within a 3 tile radius_

**I don't make any accidents when I write these stats, you know.**

**And I know there aren't personal skills in Awakening...with the exception of Shadowgift. And Conquest, but Conquest is just a Conqueror class skill.**

**Detailed fighting scenes are a trap and I'm not falling into them again. Please don't complain, I'll feel obligated to make them better. Worldbuilding, though! I love world building! Hearing about a fictional city and thinking of the people in it, then the shops, then the homes, is my favorite. Probably going to do more for the second chapter.**

**Seeya before next Friday.**

**"H****onestly, it had been entirely icicles before and if they'd gone any farther the man would have been crucified in... quite the _blood chilling_ manner." Robin is shockingly merciless when not consciously thinking about it. The mugging scene didn't _need _to be interfered with, but someone would have died. Ice power showcase. Also, I'm preparing for a later divergence by introducing her now.**


	6. 5-1 Disparate Steel

**A lot of stuff is open interpretation. Don't lynch me.**

**Supports**

**B supports- Chrom, Frederick**

**C supports- Lissa, Virion, Aversa, Olivia**

**I don't own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

"...So she says, but we still ended up waiting in the hall for her to get ready."

"Nothing wrong with a little waiting. So Robin, how was Regna Ferox's capital?

Robin raised an eyebrow. "You're asking now? Rather, why was I the only one to go out?"

Chrom twitched. "Because it's _so damn cold._ Look, I know I might only wear one sleeve, but even if I had both I'm a proud Ylissean who doesn't deal with harsh winters. I don't know what kind of mettle _you're_ made of, but I assure you none of us have the same."

"I don't think it's so bad, but... Well, if you say so. But it's the middle of the summer, isn't it?"

"Spring, actually. Summer is two months away."

The tall, tan blonde woman walked back in, sword in hand.

"Alright, I'm ready. What's your purpose, Shepherds?"

Chrom blinked. "You're- I mean... The khan, I presume?"

"Yes-The East Khan, to be precise. My name is Flavia. I apologize for the hostility at the border, Prince. You are welcome in Regna Ferox."

"Thank you. But more importantly, I'm seeking to figure out the reasoning behind it. Is it true that bandits posing as Ylisseans have been attacking your border villages?"

"Yes, Plegian hounds, in fact! We found documents identifying one of them as a Plegian commander, even. They must wish to raise tensions between your kingdom and ours."

"Those bastards-" Chrom coughed and looked up. "Forgive me. I've misspoken."

"Heh, it's no issue. Delicacy means nothing in Feroxi diplomacy! Speak plainly if you must speak at all."

"I see. Well, We need to strengthen our military, as Ylisse has been mostly without armed forces since..." Chrom looked to the side and trailed off. Flavia seemed to notice this, yet ignored it.

"I see. Well, I'm afraid that right now I can't provide you with Feroxi troops."

"...Sorry, I don't get it. Aren't you the Khan?"

"One of them, yes. But in Ferox, sovereignty is traded between Khans in a tournament of strength. The West Khan won the last tournament, so... Here we are."

Ah, the west Khan. The dancer had mentioned him. Perhaps an inability to control his troops, but control hardly seemed to be a factor in Feroxi military.

"Tch. So are we not to receive any aid?"

"Not with that attitude you won't! The next tournament comes within the week, and I'm hurting for champions."

"The captain of the border guard informed me that you Shepherds are quite the force. If you participate on our side for the tournament and win, I will see to it that Ylisse receives the help it needs."

"...I'd assume that outsiders had no place in Feroxi traditions."

"Heh. You might think so, but alongside being some of the strongest warriors, we are also quite the bunch of sore losers. We choose champions to represent ourselves, to avoid blood feuds and a pile of dead rulers! After it happened quite a few times, it was decided that the tournaments should be fought by outsiders-though royalty is a new line of thinking. We avoid picking comrades for the same reason."

Robin was somehow unsettled by this. "...By that nature, doesn't the tournament become a battle of connections rather than of strength?"

Flavia chuckled. "Well, certainly. By picking the strongest champions, we prove that we are the the best at adding new warriors to our ranks."

"I see..."

Chrom spoke again. "Then I suppose we have no choice. We're on the precipice of disaster, not only from Plegia but from this new threat of Risen. If this is the quickest way to defend our people, then we will take up our steel."

She laughed openly. "Haha! Well spoken, Prince Chrom. But I'll warn you now that the West Khan champions an equally able swordsman. I'll show you to the arena, and afterwards, you should get some rest."

"Very well. Their champions will be defeated by Ylisse's dire necessity."

* * *

"I'll tell you what, Virion. You play dirty, and I'll follow up on that."

"Hmm..." He moved two pieces- one signifying a heavy armor unit and the other a mage-except the mage was in front of the knight, acting as bait of a sort.

The mage units in this army could be considered strike units- since there were only, say, 20 in a total of 200 units, there were hardly any ways to deal with them, the only other high resistance units being Falcon Knights and Paladins.

They were going by standard rules, meaning there were no dual physical/magical units, and only two types of weapons per unit.

To make a long story short, if he didn't deal with the mage, it would defeat something this turn. But if he did, the heavy armor unit would be given a straight opportunity to take down the attacker. Heavy armor units were only meant to be defeated by mages, after all.

"...Well."

Robin moved a flying unit to deal with the mage-taking more than substantial damage in the process-and moved a mage in front of the knight, without attacking.

"Hm? You could have taken down my knight this turn. Why..."

"A choice, you could say. I'll pick my next move based on which piece you think is more important to take out."

"Hmm... Have you ever been in Valm, perchance?"

He sighed. "Perhaps? Amnesia, remember?"

"Ah, yes... That." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just that... quite a while ago, my father-and keep this under the table, would you-got help from a tactician not older than nine!"

He chuckled. Virion kept his eyes on the board-and took the pegasus knight down.

"Yes, those two managed to build up Rosanne to the nation it is, with his admittedly strange, reactionary tactics and my father's political prowess... Your moves simply remind me of him."

Robin blinked, and smiled. Perhaps this was a new lead? But... They'd have to follow up on it later. "Well, I've not got exactly the most common appearance, so I wouldn't doubt it... Still, does that make you... like, an actual noble?"

Virion looked stricken. "You didn't believe me beforehand? I'd have thought my noble archery would prove that much to you."

Robin raised an eyebrow, but smiled.

"No doubt... by the way, you might want to be more careful about your next move."

Virion looked down and gulped. His castle was surrounded by pegasus knights, and only his commander could use a bow. Quite vain of him, but it was a sound strategy as the commander was generally the most well protected. He had mages, but historically those mages used fire magic, wind magic being something of a rarity in Elibe. The most important units were the knights, but they were slowly being taken down.

"I've noticed... Isn't moving your commander with your troops quite the dangerous move?"

"Heh. Not quite. I'm always keeping either barely out of range or having another unit to do defense support. My commander is traditionally a paladin, but I lean towards Sage, personally."

He moved the Sage piece forward. The heavy knights wouldn't stand a chance against the skill and speed of the magic user.

Virion chuckled.

"Truly, I thought I was going to lose for a moment."

"Huh?"

Virion rushed all his remaining units at the sage, murdering the heavy knight backing the commander and then aiming at the sage.

Virion's commander started moving away from the castle.

"...What a dirty trick."

"Sorry, but you couldn't possibly have thought that my commander would stay at the castle if it were besieged, would you? Not to mention... most of your pegasus knights are gone, and chasing the commander down with those would simply get them killed."

Robin folded his hands. "Rather foolish of me, but... A loss is a loss. I surrender."

"Very well, a good match. I find that playing this game with others can help determine the content of their character."

"Perhaps, but all I got from yours is an opportunistic coward."

"Tch... Be as that may, it worked against you, did it not? If we simply clashed head on... Well, I know when I'm outmatched."

"Good to know."

* * *

"Ah. Didn't expect you to be here." He looked up from the bar's counter to see a girl with pink hair and a white headband. Olivia, if he remembered correctly.

"I-I could say the same about you! I didn't think that there'd actually be real fighting!"

"No, I don't mean the tournament-though I totally called that-but you don't seem the kind to go to a bar."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean by that? Besides, aren't you a little young to be drinking?"

He put an affronted gaze. Not that he was actually drinking so much as trying to sightsee, but that in itself was an odd reason to come to a bar.

"Um? I'm 23, you know... probably..."

He certainly felt 23, but that wasn't something you said out loud.

"Oh! Um, sorry. You just have a really, um..."

"...?"

"Stop looking at me like that! You have a really youthful face, okay?"

"...I'll just take that as a compliment, then. But really, you just don't seem to have an... outgoing personality."

He said those last words quietly, but he was fairly certain she could hear them.

"H-hey, isn't that kind of mean?" He raised his left hand as if to say 'yep, that's me' but remained silent. "...but y-yeah, I wanted to break out of my shell, a little."

He grinned.

"Admirable, but isn't that sort of zero to one hundred right there? Not that I'd know, but..."

"I suppose, but some of the people in the forces invited me to come and I thought it would be a good idea?"

He couldn't fault her for that, seeing as he didn't know the feeling himself.

"So... You dance?"

He was just throwing it out there, having run out of things to say. There was certainly more to see in the city, but there was a sort of hidden energy in the bar that he supposed only existed because of the cold. People of all sorts were trying to warm their toes and their spirits. He felt like he didn't want to leave just yet.

He could definitely see what Olivia was getting at.

In any case, at the prompt, she seemed to shrink even further into herself (if that was even possible) and blush a deep scarlet.

"Y-yes! I'm not the best-I'm kind of mediocre, to be honest, but..."

He smiled thinly. "I'll believe it when I see it. So, performing arts? Is that a thing in Regna Ferox?"

She blushed even deeper. "To be honest, not really... But I won't let that stop me! I want to own a theater one day-with dancing troupes, flying trapezes..."

He smiled whimsically. He honestly didn't come here to listen to someone else's dreams, and yet here he was. It was surprisingly pleasant.

"Jeez, now you've got me excited as well." He smiled, ideas forming in his mind.

...Not all plans had to involve killing.

"After the tournament, I think I might be able to show you something cool."

Freezing, even.

* * *

The tournament had quite the zealous supporters, considering that neither side had actual comrades at stake.

In fact, it was odd in the way it was set up. The East Khan clearly had the advantage, for some reason being able to pick 9 people were the Shepherds were limited to 6. In a normal confrontation, Robin would consider it a challenge and set each member in the field with one member on the other side, leaving Chrom with the swordsman leading the group.

"Hey, Chrom! Doesn't that look like...?"

"It certainly does... That Marth's motives are so cloudy, aren't they?"

"...Alright." After some deliberation, he nodded. "Virion and Frederick should take the left side. Sully, Sumia, right side. Since this is a warrior nation, I think they might frown upon us taking healers, so Lissa will have to sit out of this one."

The aforementioned cleric pouted, but agreed to sit it out.

He grinned widely, every single pointed tooth showing (and by the gods, were there alot). "Chrom, that swordsman is clearly challenging you, so let the team clear out the sides first. I'll support, since it doesn't look like you'll need real tactics."

"I see... I trust your judgement, Robin. Shepherds, let's move!"

Robin equipped his Thunder Tome, and stood slightly in front of Chrom as to attract any attackers. It looked like that Marth person wouldn't be attacking until all her comrades were gone, which was, he supposed, tactically sound and made moral sense as she probably had no relation to them.

The knights trudged forward slowly. Sully and Sumia had taken down the first axeman and were rushing to defeat the mage. Frederick and Virion had better luck, already having beaten the mage, moving to the second axeman.

In time, both knights reached Chrom and Robin, and stabbed forward with surprising coordination.

Robin dodged the first one, but the second one grazed his side. No big deal.

He blasted a black Thunder orb at the knight on his left, to which Chrom swung down his sword, thoroughly knocking out the knight.

...They weren't aiming to kill, as they were technically aiming to be allies, but it might happen.

Chrom moved onto the second one before Robin even knew what was happening, and the wanderer whistled when Falchion smashed right through the metal.

He cast another Thunder, shocking them and knocking them unconscious.

The others were getting their work done as well.

Robin stepped back, letting Chrom move forward.

"Hey! 'Marth', might I ask you one question?"

Rather rudely, Marth didn't respond.

"...Fine, then. Let our swords speak for us!"

* * *

Chrom pointed his sword at Marth, waiting for the other to draw his.

When he did, Chrom was astounded. Marth drew the sword overhead, before pointing it at Chrom with a two handed grip.

"You... Where did you get that sword?"

There was only one, after all. The second, disparate steel gleamed with an ethereal light, matching the first.

Chrom charged, before leaping in the air and doing that (in Robin's opinion) dumbass spinning attack with his sword.

Somehow, Marth managed to parry this, despite clearly being the smaller of the two, and somehow, Chrom managed to land on both of this feet despite clearly having curled up into a sharp ball seconds earlier.

Marth pushed him off, but Chrom recovered almost instantly, setting into a flurry of pressing strikes.

But Chrom was using too much movement in his wide strikes, which admittedly didn't make him tired, but gave Marth room to attack.

"Tch... Tell me, who taught you how to fight like that!?"

Chrom swung his sword around and moved into what could be described in simplistic terms as 'the stabbing position' and leaped forward.

Marth did the same. Their blades grinded against each other, but neither made contact with their target.

Then, Marth leaped into the air and was doing the same dumbass spinning attack... but it didn't seem to be aimed towards Chrom.

Robin noticed this just a second early and jumped out of the way, pulling out his dull bronze sword.

Marth almost seemed to smile.

"Come on. My father taught me how to fight... he also taught me about team efforts. Watch yourselves!"

Robin pulled up the bronze sword, parrying the first strike, but it was just a continuous barrage of them, and he found himself dodging a whole lot more than parrying.

Chrom had rejoined the fight. Robin mused to himself. "Well, if you're going to fight the team effort, the team effort is going to fight you."

No one heard him over the clashing steel. Upon Chrom slashing sideways at Marth, Robin found the time to redraw his tome.

He started firing blasts of black lighting. Unsurprisingly, most of them missed, as he didn't want to hit Chrom in the crossfire.

He shouldn't have been surprised when Marth dashed-nearly teleported as far as he could see- in front of him and cut the tome into two.

Stupidly-in fact, in a way would make him rather upset later on-all he could think was _Damn it, I only had one of those._

Such were his happy thoughts as Marth prepared to stab the blade forward...

And was subsequently stopped by a pillar of black ice.

More than one, even. One after the other, they appeared around Robin, forming a dome that barely went over his head.

One of his pockets was getting colder-colder than the weather, even.

He embraced the feeling.

And in seconds, he was changing.

* * *

Marth gasped when he saw the quadruped, wingless form of an ice dragon. Had she pushed too far? No, that couldn't be...

Four feathery wings appeared along the torso. Those were the wings of desp-

-No. They were ice white, like the rest of his body. For one reason or another, Grima's power must have been sealed.

She sighed. They'd agreed that simply killing Robin would accomplish a great deal of nothing, and even Naga agreed that a genocide of the Fellblood line would be both immoral and incredibly difficult.

And that was without mentioning she would have to kill her friends.

Chrom was nodding along to whatever he was saying (through telepathy, probably) and she cursed. She'd wasted too much time being stunned. Robin blasted out black frost, which she dodged almost immediately. She was running along the side of the blast radius, knowing that Chrom would be liable to slip on the ice.

She was better than that, but...

Chrom swung his sword forward, not budging an inch. He probably knew it as well. Robin flapped all four wings at the same time, creating an enormous gust, before landing on the icy terrain. Spikes began to appear out of it, and the air became that much dryer, Robin dragging the moisture out to create his stalactites.

Neither side would be very accurate like this. But Chrom pushed on, and she was vaguely aware that Chrom was probably still receiving directions.

She was being pushed back, and almost on the ice. If it went on any longer, there would be problems.

It did go on longer.

There were problems.

Quite a few things happened in less than five seconds, and she was pinned against a large piece of ice, facing her father's blade.

She gulped, before reaching a hand back. Could she...?

With a pulse, the stalactite shattered and she leapt back. Her boots slipped on the ice, but with another pulse, she suddenly gained traction.

She smirked, putting her hand out in a challenging gesture.

Robin was already trying to push her off the field, somehow realizing how much of a advantage Marth would be at on the icy terrain. A wing beat down, creating another enormous gust, but she stood proud.

Another blast of ice was dodged, causing her to leap to the side.

To be honest, she didn't want to attack him like this, as Falchion was a weapon legendary for slaying dragons, but he was certainly pushing it...

They stared at each other, gazes chilly.

...And then Chrom came roaring in with a flying tackle. They slid on the ice, but Marth couldn't push him off.

In mere seconds, they were off the field and Chrom was pointing his sword at her once more.

"...I yield."

* * *

Robin let go of the frost, though he was slightly reluctant.

His body was changing back, radiating a great white aura. He wasn't any more winded than when he started, so it was probably just a natural process.

The Feroxi were all cheering. Strange. He'd have thought they would be screaming in fear or something like that.

"How impressive... If not surprising."

Marth stood and made her exit.

No one noticed this, as Khan Flavia walked up to the lord and the tactician, patting them on the shoulder.

"Heh, what an excellent battle! If a little chilly." She smirked. "You have your alliance. I will see to it that Ylisse is not caught off guard."

"I see... Thank you, East-Khan."

"No, thank you! It's been so long since I've had full reign. Come, my new friends! Tonight, we celebrate!"

Robin grinned weakly. "Every day's been a party, huh?" He brushed himself off, as if he had magically accrued dust while fighting as a dragon.

Flavia gave him an extra pat on the back and left.

"Bah! Any reason for a party and she'll jump on it..."

Another man, with dark skin and an eyepatch walked in. He had quite the presence, towering over the others with his furs and the like.

"...Have we met?"

"I'm the West-Khan you so rudely removed from power! You're handy with a sword, boy. I thought for sure I'd picked the stronger man... Though, I suppose I shouldn't blame someone that stood up to a real dragon!"

"Sorry, but what do you know about him?"

"Me? Practically nothing, really. All I do know is that he turned up one day and knocked my other champion flat. Love at first sight, and I'm too old for these things! Anyways, it seems he fled... though, I find myself assuming he's fleeing from _you._"

"Hah... I wish I could have talked to him..." Lissa sighed dreamily.

"Well, seems that at least one person likes him."

"Oh? And what about you, mister? You never told anyone that you could turn into a dragon!"

"...I, uhm. I didn't know."

"C'mon, Lissa. Lay off the guy, he's probably going to be getting this a lot."

"Milord? Milady? If we're done squabbling, we'd best return home. The Exalt will want news of our alliance soon."

Chrom thought, and paused. He looked at Lissa, then at Robin, then at the snow.

He shivered.

"...How about just one day to party? Lighten up a little."

"Heh. And it'll be a party for sure!" Basilio laughed. He paused. "Oh! I also have a parting gift for you."

A man with brown hair and a dead stare looked at them blankly.

"This is Lon'qu, the man who served as my champion previously. Not the greatest talker, but peerless with a sword. I still can't figure out for the life of my how Marth bested him."

"Huh? Marth beat him? But he looks-"

"Away, woman!"

"U-um, what did I do!?"

"Oh, pay it no mind. Let's just say that the ladies tend to put him on edge... But he's capable, nonetheless. Perhaps one day he'll be a Khan, even! Consider him West Ferox's contribution to the cause."

"...Are you certain?" Chrom raised an eyebrow.

"Of course. He's all yours."

"How about you?"

"Give me the order and I'll stab people. I'd say that's pretty clear."

"...I mean, if you say so..."

* * *

Robin muttered to himself.

"Well, for all the posturing about fighting with a sword and tome, I ended up blasting everyone with snow anyways..."

"I know! I was surprised as well!"

Robin blinked and turned to the side. To his credit, he didn't leap into the air.

"When did you get here?"

She blushed. "You _did_ tell me you had something in mind after the tournament..."

Oh, right that. The topic was...

Theatrics.

Why did he say he had something in mind?

"Yeah. Your talk was really inspiring, so I thought up this..."

He pulled on the frost, bringing snow up in small strings. Light reflected off of them, making them sparkle. He grasped more snow off the ground and condensed them into ice. The ice shot up like a rod, surrounded by small strings of snow.

The snow began to wrap around it like a hemisphere. Shimmering, it spun until it took the form of a parasol, with snow falling under it.

There was always time for fun and games.

"Sorry, it's probably nothing impressive, but-"

Olivia was already clapping. "That was amazing! What a beautiful display..."

He scratched his cheek. "Well, it's hardly a one man show. I honestly don't know what comes after this."

She stared at the spinning parasol for a second.

"Oh, I don't know... How about we think of things and discuss them when we meet again?"

"You sound awfully assured..."

"A-ah! I mean, if we _do_ find time to discuss this, and we _do_ meet again, I'll keep it in mind! Don't let me keep you here!"

He collapsed the parasol and stared at her bemusedly.

"Then, I'll hold you to it."

* * *

With that, he went to the party where everyone seemed to get smashed but him... and Frederick. He was flagged down by Sully, and Frederick simply smiled while Robin glared at him.

"Hey, mishter taktishun..."

He sighed.

"...Yes?"

"Your... yer arms are sho... noodly! Aren't you a man?"

He closed his eyes. "Isn't that kind of mean? Mayhaps I aim to be a feminine man in the way you're a masculine woman?" This wasn't true, but... Ah, hell, what was the point of explaining it.

"...thert sho? Then... Da taktishun shud cook for the camp!"

He sent another glare in Frederick's direction, but the man simply grinned smugly.

"You walked into your own grave... I suggest you grab a few drinks of your own if you want to survive the night."

Shockingly, he was never able to do as such.

* * *

**Robin**

**Wanderer**

**Level- 9**

**HP- 28**

**Str- 14**

**Mag- 17**

**Skl- 11**

**Spd- 15**

**Lck-7**

**Def- 12**

**Res- 36**

**Items-**

**Bronze Sword**

_A basic sword. 37 uses left_

**Dragonstone**

_A magical stone allowing Manaketes to change forms. 49 uses left._

**Skills-**

**(Personal) Twisted Funeral**

_Steals half of a random ally's total HP upon unit's HP reaching 0_

**(Lv. 1) Anathema**

_Avoid and Critical Avoid -10 to all enemies within a 3 tile radius_

**God, you have to tell me if you think there was something wrong with the chapter. Don't just leave me hanging. Leave a review, I take all criticism.**

**"Perhaps? Amnesia, remember?"**

**I love this line for many reasons.**

**Chrom is so strangely poetic that it's hard to remix his lines. So sometimes I just rip them from the game, I can't help it.**

**I don't want to lay things on thick but I don't want my support scenes to be like 'instant friendzone!' The game can get away with a lot of pacing things in the story because technically speaking, you control them. But just writing meetings between friends? In the same way, it's like 'my dad and your mom are best friends, and we're best friends' but from the reader's perspective, wouldn't that just look like a brother and sister?**

**Yeah... But my A/N rants don't mean anything! Don't take them the wrong way.**

**my drunk impression is so shit omfg**


	7. 5-2 The Precipice

**This is a .5 chapter, not an interlude. Keep that in mind.**

**I don't own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

"Awfully contentious of you."

"Aw, shut up."

"You know, I think I've figured out why none of my advances have succeeded, lately."

"...Why's that? And what's this 'lately' thing about? They've never succeeded."

He ignored that.

"It's you! I know you said you'd be my wingman-and who has a girl for a wingman anyways-but the last time I attempted to get a date the fair maiden in question simply looked in your direction and raised an eyebrow! It's a tragedy!"

"Tss... Hardly. Besides, didn't you promise you'd be careful about making connections when we went back in time?"

"Yeah, I did. Thanks for reminding me. Even so, I think it's well within my rights to blame you for this."

"...Alright, if you say so. But still, _why's that?_"

"I'm not so sure myself, but I think they think we're in a relationship!"

"Ew."

"Yeah, well! In fact, I've given this a lot of thought and doesn't this situation look a whole lot like a date?"

"Really? We're just eating sandwiches in an admittedly iconic bistro... Even so, can't you just tell them I'm your sister or something? Or if that's too_ embarrassing_, your best friend?"

He sighed. "I tried, but they still seem off-put after that. Actually, I think one of them just honestly told me 'best friend or not, I'm not competing with someone _that_ pretty.'"

"Wow, thanks for the compliment."

"Hey, it's not me. Thank all those ladies who ditched me! Tell you what, I bet if you left me alone for once, I could actually score a date!"

"Hmm... Yeah, I don't think so."

"Tch. I got mugged _one _time! It'll never happen again!"

"Twice. You got mugged twice. Don't you know how worried we were?"

"What's this 'we?' Everyone just laughed at me!"

"Oh, yeah, that was great! But... I don't think I can deal with you being hurt."

"That's never stopped you before..."

"Correction. I'm the only one who can do it! Anyone who tries it without my express permission is hurting me by hurting you!"

"Gee, I didn't know you cared so much."

"Well, now you do! Let's go fight an army!"

Morgan and Inigo marched off to the border of Ylisse and Plegia.

* * *

"Huh, that's quite a small force."

"_Let's go fight an army_, she says... Anyways, if I heard correctly, only small groups of soldiers will ever come across the border, and they can't be detected as actual soldiers, taking the actual blame off of Plegia. Well, if they happen to use wyverns, that's a red flag, and it's always a controversial choice."

"Hmm, I see... Say, aren't I supposed to know all of this before you?"

"Heh. Well, this isn't a matter of tactical knowledge so much as political and keeping your ear to the ground. you know I'm not quite the tactician we need, right?"

"Ugh. Don't remind me. So let's see..."

"Hm?"

"No, I'm trying to figure this out. Do we want to cross the border or stay on this side?"

"..."

"Yeah. Let's cross the border. We can keep a good lookout that way."

* * *

"Jeez, aren't they supposed to see your cloak and prostrate themselves?"

"Don't be rude. Besides, they haven't seen Father in ages, so they probably couldn't tell if I didn't, like, actually show them my Mark."

"Fair point... But why are we attacking a stronghold?"

"It's not a stronghold, but rather an outpost. It's quite grand, sure, but there's far more lookout towers than walls, and wyvern riders are patrolling it, rather than soldiers on the walls. But remember, Plegia has quite the military so it might as well be a stronghold by Ylissean standards."

"Tch... How can Plegia have something like this? Isn't it-"

"-You're being rude again. You're Plegian, you know? Besides, if there's one thing Plegia isn't bleeding for, it's gold. And seeing as this is a border outpost, back when they weren't on such bad terms, they could have bought all the supplies and workers from Ylisse."

"Alright, alright... You can skip the lecture. But why are we here?"

"Well, we're going to appropriate it. We look the part, don't we?"

"Sorry, what?"

"We're going to take it over and use it to intercept messages. Got your bow ready?"

"What!?"

"We don't quite have our bearings, right? The easiest way to gain an advantage in a war is to attack the border states."

"But... The war hasn't started yet. Wouldn't this set them off?"

"Why would it? We're hardly Ylissean, by any means."

"Alright, you got me... I'm still not comfortable with this."

"Alright, if you say so... I got this costume!"

"That's..."

"I know! Isn't it great?"

"Morgan, I don't want to dress up as a _bandit._"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

"Well... In that case, get your butt in there so we can be done by night."

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, dark magic was dangerous because it _didn't_ rely on intent. Once you knew how to cast it, the moment the words left your lips, they would do exactly what you thought it would do. There was no holding back, like with Anima or Light tomes, no 'reducing the intensity' or 'pouring extra energy in'. Dark was Dark, and you got what you gave.

Such were Inigo's happy thoughts as he watched a man's skin shrivel up and tighten around his body like a straitjacket.

"Eugh... Morgan, can't you hold back... just a _little_ bit?"

The fortress-_outpost, _he reminded himself_-_was exceedingly well lit under the cover of night. Torches lined the hallways at 20 foot intervals, only the corners casting shadows at all.

But the shadows cast by corners were all Morgan needed to wreak havoc on the Plegian guards. There was no commander in the fortress at that time, only a man who managed communications.

Foolish, for a border outpost. But perhaps it was the best outcome, seeing as they were going to get cleaned out.

Inigo narrowed his eyes and drew his bowstring, looking down the hallway. He somehow managed to ignore the muffled sobs of the man with the straitjacket skin as he let loose an arrow.

A small groan was the only proof he hit anything.

"Oh, grow up." She pulled out her steel blade and performed a mercy killing on the hexed man. "We're just trying to get through here fast, aren't we?"

"Alright, but..." He groused.

If there was one thing he disliked about Morgan, it was how goal-driven she was. She wasn't in the school of unnecessary violence, but if a platoon of soldiers stood between her and something she cared about, well, that platoon was already dead.

Not a soldier. A butcher.

Well, he exaggerated.

There were only soldier-class people, no one necessarily important. Perhaps there was a different group that'd already left? It was definitely a possibility...

"Anyways, we're getting close to the central communications. How about we just check out that area for a while before moving on?"

"Alright, then..."

He wondered, for a second, exactly how she knew where the central comms were, but he then looked up and saw a sign pointing directly at it.

Sighing and palming his forehead, he followed her into the room.

It was strangely unlit, but Inigo had some spark rocks to start a fire. He lit one of the torches, illuminating the massive collection of documents and transcripts.

He yawned. It was late, after all.

"I'm going to go up one of the watchtowers, why don't you just find what you're looking for...?"

She gave him a mock salute and he went up the stairs to the central tower, quiver of arrows bouncing up and down.

Upon reaching the watchtower, he cursed.

It seemed that the lights in the central comms were somehow linked to the floodlights, and...

There was a great horde of Risen outside of the fort. Surprisingly, the remaining Plegian soldiers were attempting to fight them off, but they were definitely losing.

He ran down the stairs.

"Morgan! Morgan, there's a-"

_The main force in this outpost went to Themis to kidnap the Duke's daughter._

_If this goes wrong, there will be a war... I think?_

There was only a note on the table.

If she left, she was probably fine.

Now, he was worried about himself.

* * *

He found a microphone tome and started shouting into it. A display of all the ally units was plastered on the wall- the guards must have been tagged, as it only showed the allies and not the enemies-either that, or it worked based on life force and the Risen didn't count.

He was hardly the best commander in the world, but he'd learned the subject for quite a while.

"Men, if you want to live, guard the doors! Don't let them surround you and if you need two people to guard an entrance, take three!"

He didn't honestly care if they followed his orders or not.

"I repeat! Retreat back into the stronghold! Barricade the entrances with your life!"

He shut the microphone tome and pulled out his bow again.

There were two important factors right now.

1: How well armed the fortress was

2: The availability of siege weapons

One would think that they were rather useless for an infantry invasion, but his goal was simply to scatter them long enough to survive the night. If Morgan was correct about the soldiers going to Themis, they would be returning within a day. Not to mention, Plegian fighters had boosted morale in the desert sun... or so he had heard. He'd never seen it in action.

He found a ballista and began aiming the gigantic bolts at the largest crowds of Risen. He let loose one shot, impaling four at once. But the horde had to have at least sixty, meaning he was nowhere near finished.

If he looked closely, he could see the four unfortunates struggling to get off the bolt, but they were pinned down by each other.

"Haha, oh wow, look at all those chunks of flesh! You hardly come across such a tenacious fighting force anymore... Say, you look like you're in a bind!"

Inigo nearly jumped, before looking around.

The only living thing in the area was a crow.

...Then two.

Four.

Eight.

There was a figure either flying inside a flock of crows, or being _carried _by them, and he wasn't sure which one was more impressive.

It was someone he knew rather well.

The easiest way to get the man on his side would be to play his games.

"Hey! Do you have any long range magic?"

Or large area magic, but no one seemed to have that on hand anymore.

"Heehee! Is that really what you need? Because I could make a pretty gruesome explosion, too!"

Inigo could have cried in relief.

"Y-yeah. Could you do that? We're just trying to split their ranks. Make it quick, and make it flashy. We won't survive the night otherwise, so do... whatever your ritual needs."

"Nyahaha, I like your style! Y'see, most people are off put by my grandest displays, but you're just plugging along, arentcha?"

"Please. I've spent my whole life with a girl who can trap people in their own skin. I can take whatever you have up your sleeve."

* * *

He shouldn't have said that.

Definitely shouldn't have said that.

He definitely should have believed whatever they'd said about Henry at his worst, before he joined the Shepherds. But here he was, watching a corrosive fountain of blood swallowing risen, causing them to leak whatever made them tick, making the fountain of blood even larger.

Gods, maybe he should have just looked for a Mire tome in the outpost, they weren't that uncommon...

Who was he kidding. Still, he could appreciate the sheer chaos the dark mage could cause with roughly a quart of blood and a fresh corpse head. He almost wondered where the man got the damned thing, but he looked around the battlefield and remembered the losses on their side.

_Heh... Our side?_

"I-impressive indeed. We might survive yet."

He would not think further on Henry laughing darkly and shouting, 'Fire in the hole!' when chucking the blood-enchanted corpse head at the risen horde.

Henry threw his shoulders back and laughed. "Nyahaha! That was great, we should do that again sometime!"

"Maybe... Maybe later. Anyways, we have something else to deal with."

The Plegian forces would question them, no doubt.

They went down the watchtower, not being able to support any longer from afar.

"Who the hell are you?"

They were accosted, almost immediately. Inigo wasn't sure what to say, and was glad when the dark mage spoke up. He was glad they weren't pointed their weapons at him already.

"I'm one of Commander Vasto's unit, just passing along a message! My crow intelligence is the most CAWst efficient way to get the word around!"

There were some groans, but the man leading the outpost remained stalwart.

"Oh yeah? Spit it out."

Henry smiled widely.

"The Wanderer will be returning with Gangrel, tomorrow night."

That.

That wasn't good.

* * *

**"All this Luck and you still can't score a single date." -Encendrel, upon checking Inigo's stats**

**You might have realized this, but I prefer the dialogue heavy story with few descriptors, and I try to describe the scenery through implication rather than saying outright. The saying is 'Show, don't tell' but why do either when you can let your reader dream one up based on the conversation the characters have?**

**It's not good form, though.**

**By the way, Polling! I see three people have already voted which is strange in itself seeing as I never told anyone about said poll. But yes, there's one on my profile: It's class change options.**

**Enigma, the living shadow or Glace, the highest throne of ice. Yes, your choice will affect the story's path. I'm not particularly hoping for one or the other. Vote ends on Chapter 9.**

**And review.**


	8. Two: Breathing

**I don't own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

_Thump._

_Thump._

There's a certain exhilaration in hearing one's own heartbeat. Something pounding so fiercely in such a fragile environment, a delicate proof of existence.

Breathing deeply, she rises from her silk sheets and silently moves along a corridor, clutching a frigid white stone like a lifeline.

Father's soul is slowly being eaten away by Grima, cannibalized by a pool of negative emotions and a desperate will to survive. Of the family she once knew of, even if she managed to gather them all it would be like hosting a party of dangerous strangers.

Robin. It was all his fault, wasn't it? Grima had waited for a suitable candidate before wreaking havoc on the predecessor. That was what Mother told her, long ago.

She shook her head, though. It did no good to loop back to thoughts of the dearly departed. And it wasn't Robin's fault, even if he wasn't suitable that curse would drive Robin or her to create a better candidate down the line.

Grima had small mercies... or perhaps it was a toture of a different form. In the waking hours, Grima would 'rest' for a short while and Father would return to his old form... or what was left of it.

Aversa pretended to sleep those hours, most of the time. She didn't want to see her beloved father so drunk on what little slack the chain of fate had on him. And why not? His lover dead (or so far away the gods couldn't find her), daughter estranged, and worst: his son drifting along the four winds, thinking he was some great, evil villain who needed suffering to survive nowadays.

In the cruelest sense, it was true. The nature of the Fellblooded stigma was the only thing that kept him breathing, still. He had died in the war, taken by... well, those Ylissean soldiers were hardly called fanatics _now_. Orchestrating a master plan he wanted nothing to do with, but had to go along with to keep the proof of his existence.

Today, Aversa blamed destiny. The dark hand that played them like pieces on a board, the one that created this backwards 'light and dark' world. The one that kept their hearts beating for the sole purpose of stopping them on a later date.

Today, she moved in the earliest hours to the Dragon's Meal Table, where her father blamed so many things for the path destiny tugged him on. His scripted fate-that is, writing away the fates of others.

She stands behind him for a short while. He starts to move back and forth, pretending she isn't in the grand area. Slowly, he turns to her, and she tries her hardest to meet his hollow stare.

For better or worse, she doesn't do it long. He walks towards a pile of rubble and finds a blue tome. She almost thinks he's going to lash out at her, but that's not right. Even with his previously incredible talent in magic, only Grima can fuel the necessary willpower for him to try nowadays.

But he walks to her, and thrusts the tome towards her. She vaguely reads the runes as Fimbulvetr, but doesn't pay too much attention.

"Go."

"Father, I-"

"Please. Go, for as long as destiny doesn't call you."

She takes the tome as quickly as she can, starting to walk away; to avoid the cold atmosphere.

"You know, your mother loved the birds. Their nature was flight just as ours is anathema. She... No, never mind.

It was freezing in the room; just as the desert was before the sun rose.

For an ice dragon, Aversa hated the cold.

* * *

They had run at the time.

Robin had shaken her awake in the dark flames of what they used to call home. Their mother was nowhere to be seen and father...

Who knew, anymore?

But the strangest part was that Robin had a face of genuine worry... relief? Happiness?

She'd thought the Grimleal had taken it all away. The influx of dark energy that had followed those strange men that had razed their home was supposed to be proof that he no longer understood those 'emotions.'

She had apparently been wrong, though.

There were knights in blue. Blood all around them, smoke rising still. One carried a lance with a bloody cloth on it- more of a flag than a weapon. She could barely make out a faded teardrop symbol under the red.

This was a war.

In that time, they'd gathered whatever they could get and ran, out into the desert and into 'freedom.'

* * *

"I'm sorry, Brother. But I must go back, I don't want to leave Plegia at its worst... Stay safe."

* * *

"A-au-"

A stunned girl with a strikingly familiar face and ruby red eyes stares at her. The boy next to her sighs and claps his hand over her mouth.

"Sorry, miss. My friend's just got a little bit of a memory problem."

The girl puffs her cheeks out in an indignant manner and Aversa ignores the protective instinct welling up in her. That word the girl said couldn't be 'Aunt', could it...? Besides, as she'd never gotten the glamours-and-aging hexes treatment her brother got, it would be hard to walk up to a physically ten year old and call them aunt.

Robin was that age, wasn't he? But this girl had to be at least sixteen and she knew that considering the state her brother had left Plegia in, there was less than a small chance he would be making that sort of bond with anyone for at least the next twenty years. Manaketes did take quite a while to change mindsets, after all.

"...You couldn't be looking for Robin, could you?"

She fights to keep her voice from sounding menacing. It probably still comes out strangely, but she'll live. It was an acquired skill to sound dangerous despite the high pitched prepubescent voice, and yet another to stop sounding dangerous.

The boy... perhaps a year or two older than her, twitches a little as the girl smacks his shoulder triumphantly.

"Um, yes! You wouldn't happen to know where he is, right?"

Aversa laughs, a dark chuckle that would set most people off kilter. But the two seem rather used to it. Come to think of it, the boy's white hair is a feature so obviously Plegian, and the girl...

She yet again turned her thoughts away from the thought of her brother reproducing.

"Afraid not. The last I heard of him, he was far west in Chon'sin, but that was years ago... For all I know, he's in Southern Ylisse."

A flash of remembrance shows on the girl's face. The boy seems assuaged, so maybe they remembered something important?"

"Um... Thanks! How do you know him?" The boy whispers something like 'you don't have to go this far to prove a point' but the girl just elbows him in the stomach.

Hell, her suspicions were probably correct. Ignore the logistics and anything was possible. "That wanderer's my brother. I don't suppose that would make you my niece?" Hair and eyes aside, she was the spitting image of Aversa and Robin's mother.

She hoped to god that the girl would say no.

"U~hm, yep! Nice to meet you, Auntie Aversa! I'm Morgan!"

* * *

Seeing the two off, she begins to take her own path. She headed towards Ylisstol, based on the recognition those strange children had shown.

Would she meet her only remaining (still sane) family? Maybe even that apparent lover of his, though she had her doubts.

Walking though the Capital in comparatively modest clothes, she sipped a cup of tea.

As a group of men and a dainty princess passed the diner she sat in, her heart beat loudly enough that she believed she was truly alive.

So what if she couldn't beat her scripted fate?

Until the day destiny called, perhaps she could find the bond of family once more.

* * *

_"You will die by your brother's hand."_

Really, prophecies were the absolute worst.

* * *

**Oh boy, that's a chapter every... 1.8 days? You guys should be proud of me.**


	9. 6-1 Dichotomize

**I feel like some of you don't understand the significance of me posting a chapter every 2 days for two weeks.**

**Hmmhmm, 300 visitors per day and only 2 reviews per chapter! _Suspicious..._**

**I kid, but lack of commentary really jacks the progress of the story. I know I should have updated more earlier had I wanted 10 reviews per chapter, but I'll settle for less if it helps me keep writing.**

**A supports- Chrom**

**B supports- Frederick, Virion, Olivia**

**C supports- Lissa, Aversa**

**I don't own Fire Emblem**

* * *

"Hey Robin. Sorry about the other day..."

He gazed at her mistrustfully for a moment, then sighed. "It's fine. It's probably my fault for not getting drunk as well." He smiled mirthfully.

"Hah! That's a good one! ...Anyways, when we were in the arena, I noticed that your tome got cut in half..."

"Ugh. Don't remind me."

"And I figure you might need this more than Miriel does. How about it? Found it in the arena from one of those mages."

He looked down at the spellbook and back up. He took the tome, slowly. "Thanks, Sully. You're pretty helpful, actually."

She grinned. "So, I seemed to remember something about feminine men and-"

He groaned.

* * *

"...And he can transform into a dragon!"

Robin sighed. "I thought we were done with this."

"Truly? I've never seen a manakete before." Emmeryn smiled.

"You can see one now! Robin, do the thing!"

"Lissa, no..."

"Please? The thing!"

"What if someone walks in and thinks the Exalt is being attacked by a dragon? I'm not... I'm not doing that."

"Fine..."

Chrom chuckled. "That aside, we've helped the East Khan with their troubles."

"...So have we gained Regna Ferox's allegiance?"

Chrom nodded at his sister.

"I see. Thank you, Chrom. I knew sending you was the right choice."

"Heh. You should see Ferox's warriors! Perhaps we will now be safe from-"

"Y-your Grace! I bring alarming news!" A blue-haired woman in Pegasus Knight armor ran into the room, out of breath.

"Phila! Slow down! What happened?"

"Plegian soldiers have been spotted inside of our southwest border! They attacked a village in Themis and abducted the Duke's daughter."

Lissa thought about the statement for a moment. "The Duke's daughter... Wouldn't that be Maribelle?! Chrom, we have to help!"

"There's more, milady: King Gangrel claims Lady Maribelle invaded _his_ country. He demands that we pay reparations for this... slight."

"Gah! We're to believe a dastard like the Mad King of Plegia?" Chrom grimaced.

"Well, even if you don't, I imagine any action that gets him a war is enough for him," Robin pointed out.

"Peace, Chrom. Robin's right; we have to act carefully."

"We should just put a sword in his gut and be done with it!"

Robin sighed.

_"Chrom."_ He breathed out. "Any small force that sweeps past the real confrontation to kill the leader is an assassin, not a hero. While I don't know if he's liked, any soldier loyal to him will consider that grounds for a war."

"But the Mad King has been trying to provoke war with us at every step! He won't stop until he drags the whole continent to its fiery grave!"

"I agree with the prince, Your Grace," Phila interjected. "We must demonstrate to them that such actions have consequences."

"I do understand your feelings. I really do, but... If we give him his war, we lose, no matter the outcome. The last war ruined the halidom. We will not allow it to be ruined again after we've finally built it up so high. I-I will offer parley with King Gangrel."

Robin had a great many thoughts on this idea, but offered none of them.

"Emm, no! You can't!" Everyone else did, though.

"You must reconsider, Your Grace! We cannot trust Gangrel to act in good faith!"

"So either we must choose war, or leave Lady Maribelle to die? I cannot accept that."

"...I spoke out of turn, Your Grace. It is the fact that you stand by your principles so steadily that makes the people accept you. But please allow the pegasus knights to accompany you, at the least."

"I'm going, too! Someone must keep you safe from your good intentions."

"And I'll be there for you and Maribelle!"

Robin chuckled. "Well, I've already come this far, huh? Even if I'm not a Shepherd, I'll lend you my strength... whatever that may be."

"Thank you. Your strength will be mine."

* * *

"Alright! Is everyone ready to go?" Chrom asked. "It'll be a long march through the western mountains to get to the Plegian border."

"Captain! I'm all packed! When are we leaving?!" A small, reddish-brown haired boy in mage robes rushed into the area, all excited for some reason.

"Ricken? How did you... Please, go back inside. You're not old enough for this mission."

"But, Captain! You know my skill with magic! You know I can handle myself."

Robin cleared his throat.

Honestly, Chrom could have picked something a lot better than 'you're not old enough' yet, but here they were.

"I'd feel safer with your magic here, protecting Ylisstol, all right? We're off, then. Be good."

The best word Robin could think of was 'awkward older brother.'

As they began to leave, he sighed. "Listen. The issue isn't your skill, but what's happening. When we get there, any action we take could start a war... If that doesn't make you anxious, you truly aren't mature enough yet."

Ricken sighed, but raised an eyebrow. "...And yet you're taking 'The Vaike'?'"

"That's... a good point. But he waits for Chrom to move first. Would you?"

He left before he could get a response.

* * *

As they walked through the mountains, they saw a pair standing on a rock formation.

"What's this, then? The Exalt herself, in all her radiance? I fear I must shield my eyes!" He cackled.

The Mad King was a garish man; clothed like a jester with a crown that was hardly a crown. Robin imagined he would look better if he lost the fur hood and brushed his hair, but was it truly his business?

And next to him was... his sister? His sister, wasn't looking anywhere near them, instead choosing to draw pictures in the ground with her spear (which was quite the sight, seeing as the spear was twice her height

Aversa's eyes widened when she took note of him, but it was quickly replaced with a calculating look.

"King Gangrel, I've come for the truth of this unfortunate incident between us."

Aversa chuckled. "Hmm... The truth, huh? Does it really matter so?"

"Perhaps the lady might share her name, first?"

"Me? Aversa. I don't serve the king, though, I'm only here for..."

She gave Robin a meaningful glance. "In any case, I don't know what happened here." She grinned maliciously. Robin buried his face in his hands.

"...Then... Gangrel, is Maribelle unharmed?"

"Who? Oh, right, that little blonde brat."

He gestured grandly towards a mountain pass. The woman in pink struggled, but was held in place by a barbarian.

"Unhand me, you gutter-born troglodyte!"

Robin whistled to himself, making sure no one heard him. That was some vocabulary, there.

"Maribelle!" Lissa cried.

"Lissa? Darling, is that you?" Maribelle grimaced and stopped struggling.

Aversa sighed. "From what I hear, this girl crossed the border without his consent! And when they attempted to help her home, she so rudely wounded the Plegian soldiers who sought to escort her home." Aversa put an a comically offended face. It was clear that she didn't believe anything that was being said, but Robin wasn't so certain why she was playing along... then again, he didn't know her all that well, in truth.

Robin then wondered for a second how someone like Maribelle could wound any soldiers, but then distinctly remembered worrying if you could stab through someone with a parasol.

...And how the hell hadn't they confiscated it yet? She was still holding the damn thing between her tied hands.

"You speak nothing but lies, witch! Did they not teach the meaning of the word 'truth' in crone school!? Or are you perhaps you are too young for that?!"

"Heh. 'Crone school', that's a good one. I'm just saying what I've been hearing. And for your information, I'm 28. What cheek, making assumptions about a lady's age."

"I see no lady!" Maribelle shouted, probably just attempting to get the last word in.

"See? Such a violent temper speaks of her guilt. This could result in quite the weighty punishment." He faked a grimace. "And what if she were to confess to being a Ylissean spy? That would be _terrible_, wouldn't you say?" He laughed.

"Tch... You dastard..." muttered Chrom.

"Yes, it would take a gesture of considerably great faith to repair our relations."

"I've done nothing! They are the ones that should confess! They razed an entire village, and when I attempted to intervene, they dragged me across the border. Let the plundered shops and charred homes serve as my proof!"

"Heh. All that proves is that Ylisse has a bandit problem- and oh, do they have bandit problems! There are few things I hear more often. But indeed, I will weep salty tears into my pillow tonight for your dead villagers. Perhaps even saltier than the ones I wept when good old Seroun speared my father and left him hanging on that flag of his!" He laughed, an entirely insensate expression on his face. Robin couldn't tell if he no longer felt anything or if he was really good at holding back emotions.

"Your Grace, please! You mustn't believe them!"

Emmeryn closed her eyes as if thinking. "Peace, Maribelle. I believe you. King Gangrel, I request that you release this woman at once. Surely you and I can sort out these affairs without hostages in play."

"Oh? Without an apology? Why would I even _BOTHER _with parley? It's well within my rights to have her head right now and be home in time for supper."

"Tch. You black-hearted devil!"

"Your Sparkliness, please control your dog. He might get someone hurt!"

"Rrgh..."

"Alright, then, your Graceliness. How about a trade?"

"What are you terms?"

"You give me the Fire Emblem, and I return Mari Contrary here in one piece."

"...You would demand Ylisse's royal treasure? But why?"

He cackled. "I know the legend! The Fire Emblem is key to having your wishes realized! I, in turn, have wished for it for years! And yet every time my birthday comes around, Ylisse still hasn't wrapped it up for me. Heh."

"The Fire Emblem's power is meant for but one thing, King. To save the world and its people at their most desperate hour. Do you claim to have a more noble wish?"

"I want what all Plegians want! A grisly end for every last Ylissean! What could be more noble than that!?"

She grimaced. "What?"

"Surely you haven't forgotten what the last Exalt did? Your father named us heathens! His 'crusade' across my nation butchered my subjects and my kin alike! His execution of our previous religious leader was so brutal that even Grima wept at the savagery!"

Emmeryn had an expression of deep regret in her eyes. "...I have never denied Ylisse's past wrongdoings. But I have sworn to never repeat those mistakes. Our realm is now a realm of peace."

"Bah! A haven of hypocrisy is what it is! You left us bleeding out on the sands we called home, and yet not a cent to '_make up for past mistakes._' Gangrel was well and truly angry now. "Do you understand what it meant for me to inherit a cracked, burning throne!? Now, the Fire Emblem!"

"No, Your Grace! I'd sooner die than act as a bargaining chip for this filthy reprobate!"

"No, Maribelle..."

Gangrel took note of their forces as he swept his eyes across the Shepherds, pretending to ponder.

But then, his eyes landed on Robin. He grinned.

"-Actually, I've changed my mind. I don't _need_ the Fire Emblem. But I still need _something. _What could it be...?"

He tapped his chin mockingly.

"Speak, dastard! What is it that you want?" Chrom shouted at Gangrel.

Gangrel crossed his arms. "The Wanderer. I'd call that a fair trade, wouldn't you?"

They paused.

"...I'm sorry, who?"

The mad king sighed, and tried again. "What is it that he's called now? Runaway... Robin? Yes, how about it? We'll give you your disagreeable bird if you give us the wanderer. A noble Ylissean for a Plegian nobody; you'll not get another chance like this, Exalt."

A sadistic, degenerate grin.

"Choose quickly."

* * *

Chrom turned to him, anguish on his face.

Robin was floored. 'The Wanderer...' Had he really been called that, so long ago? But even so, Aversa had been next to Gangrel, so he could probably remain somewhat safe. At the same time, the Shepherd's group might be left floundering and there were still Gangrel's forces all across Themis.

Even so. They were strong. Coherent. He might even say he trusted them... no, that was still pushing it.

Aversa appeared from a suddenly appearing in front of the group. "Heh. What a choice to make, brother dearest. But know this: Gangrel cannot harm you." There was a magic circle under her feet that was made out of stone, explaining what she'd been drawing earlier.

"...Sister. What are you doing here?"

She chuckled. "Making ends meet. I'll tell you when you get your memories back."

He raised an eyebrow. "There's a way to get them back...?"

"Of course there is. It's a seal, not an eraser. They are lost, not destroyed. But I can't help you if you're with the Shepherds."

He swallowed.

"...I'm sorry, Chrom, but they seems to know something about me. I have to chase this lead."

"Robin! This is not the only way."

He dropped his sword and began walking forward.

Just loudly enough for them to hear, he spoke. "Don't worry about me, I'll take care of myself."

Hardly even a farewell. But it was _enough._

Chrom gave up on that front and turned to the little girl, who was beginning to turn as well. "Hey, you! Robin's sister! Why is it that Gangrel wants Robin?"

She smiled grimly. "Chase us and find out. It's a long story that foreigners have no business with. But know this: Regardless of the fact that Gangrel is leaving, he will still attack you. He will release Maribelle to you, but be prepared for a fight."

She paused for a moment.

"Actually, I'm not sure if you can avoid a war even still. You'd do well to be wary of uninvited guests."

"...I understand. Thank you... Aversa."

"Hmph. No big deal, princeling."

She caught up with her brother, and like that, they were gone.

Maribelle was released to the group. They had a reunion, but Chrom cleared his throat. "Sorry, but it looks like our work's not done yet. Treat them as you would any group of bandits!"

* * *

"Hah... Did I get here in time? Well, no war yet, it looks like." Morgan smiled cheerfully. "Well, I'd better get to work, then... Wait, is that Father? If it is... I'll just have to trust Inigo to that."

She hopped off of a rock formation and surveyed the area. On the left side and higher ground was Commander Orton, and on the lower ground was the Shepherds. It looked like Gangrel had left already, so if he hadn't gotten his war yet, they were acting as a 'group of bandits', and even if Chrom claimed they were soldiers of Plegia, all he could do at that point would be to declare war.

Gangrel might have even reached the point where he was ready to declare a war without being attacked. The forces were certainly geared to fight.

"Alright! Now... I guess it's time to go nuts, right?"

She walked out onto the field, to one of the forts, and tapped a Dark Mage on the shoulder.

As the soldier turned, she stabbed them violently and without remorse.

His eyes widened. "Traitor! Traitor in the ranks!" He would have said more had he not begun coughing on his own blood. She shook her head sadly.

"Jeez! I'm not even a soldier..."

Muttering to herself, she noticed that three more soldiers had surrounded her. This wasn't any real problem, but it was a massive pain.

"YOUR END HAS COME!"

She blinked as Chrom jumped in, slashing at one of the barbarians. He was the followed up by an archer who finished off the axe fighter.

There was a myrmidon... gods, maybe she should have paid more attention to her parents' comrades, but it'd been so long ago as well...

She realized she was just standing still at that time, and ducked under a myrmidon's blade, leaping towards them and shoving them down before stabbing them.

She smiled as she stood and brushed herself off. "Well, thanks...?"

"Chrom. What are you doing here?"

She grinned and shook her head. "Nothing much. These soldiers seem to have confused me with one of their own... gods, maybe I shouldn't wear Father's coat so much..."

"Your father's-?" It was then that he took note of the thing. It was purple and black, held together with golden strings with a dark pattern on the back. Purple eyes lined the sleeves-he honestly never got that part.

In other news, it looked exactly like Robin's.

"Have... Have we met before?" Shoot, that wasn't the right thing to say. He was trying to say something along the lines of 'have you met someone named Robin before' but he'd managed paint himself as the tavern sleaze in no time flat. She agreed, by the incredulous way she looked at him. She stared at him for a moment.

"Awfully interesting thing to be asking a girl on the battlefield."

"Sorry! I wanted to ask- No, you know what? Never mind. If you can fight, though, can you help us through this battle?"

"Well, sure! Um... Aren't you supposed to be..."

"What?"

"I'm a wandering tactician, and I can use a blade. When you recruit someone you have to figure out what they do." They way she talked was something like a river, incontestable and at best diverted. It was rather admirable.

"Oh. Right. Yes, you're right. Anyways, now's not the time for this! We have to make it out of this battle at the least!"

"Right! Lead the way, captain!"

He was never certain if she was mocking him or not.

* * *

"Hmph... This Risen problem just doesn't seem to stop!" complained Gangrel, wiping remains off in the sand. He had a grimace on his face as he continued to move forward. "Aversa, dear, don't you have some warp magic or something?"

She raised her eyebrow and waved her silver spear absently. "The longer the distance, the less accurate it becomes. Even if we went straight to your castle, one of us might end up bisected by a wall."

He grumbled, but in general shut up.

Robin couldn't believe the Plegian command was such a clown show.

"Alright, we've made it to the Plegian border outpost. We were planning to get to the capital tonight, but with this constant Risen hunting, we're best off holing up in here!"

"I agree, King Gangrel! Isn't that such a good idea?"

Aversa and Robin stared at the man, silent. If he wanted to be cheered on by himself, so be it.

They entered the building, which was filled with guards... but less than usual, for some reason.

"And that's when I said 'I guess Miracle really does work!' Nyahaha!"

They heard a childish cackle and Robin turned his head. A white haired boy with a closed-eye smile threw his shoulders back and laughed.

"Hello."

He turned around, face to face with a silver haired boy. Man, really-perhaps boy wasn't fair. He had a suave grin and a steel bow on his back, along with a collared blue and white shirt with black pants and steel greaves. An icy blue round stone was tied to the strap that held his bow.

"You're the King, right? We were told you were coming. I'm Inigo... We might have met."

He received no further elaboration.

* * *

"Phew... So that's an organized Plegian force... It seems it's true. If it ever comes to war, we'll need a tactician to best them." Chrom wiped sweat off his brow and attempted to clean the blood off of his blade by swing it out... that hardly ever worked.

"You think?" Morgan sheathed her steel sword stretching. "Well, good luck with that, then. I think we're done he-"

"-Wait! I mean-sorry, it seems we're down a tactician right now." Chrom coughed. "If you're not busy, and you don't mind fighting for the forces of Ylisse, could you join us? You don't have to, I mean... but it'd be nice."

She rolled her eyes. "Is that how you recruit everyone to your cause? Well, I'm certainly not _busy... _You know what? I'd be happy to help out."

"I'm glad for it."

Chrom turned to the Exalt. "Alright. Sister, the situation's been handled... more or less. But that Aversa character said we should prepare for attack. Let's head back to Ylisstol."

She nodded, and they headed off.

* * *

**Robin**

**Wanderer**

**Level- 11**

**HP- 31**

**Str- 16**

**Mag- 18**

**Skl- 13**

**Spd- 17**

**Lck-9**

**Def- 13**

**Res- 38**

**Items-**

**Dragonstone**

_A magical stone allowing Manaketes to change forms. 49 uses left._

**Thunder**

_Basic Lightning magic. 45 uses left._

**Skills-**

**(Personal) Twisted Funeral**

_Steals half of a random ally's total HP upon unit's HP reaching 0_

**(Lv. 1) Anathema**

_Avoid and Critical Avoid -10 to all enemies within a 3 tile radius_

**(Lv. 10) Terrum**

_Using the 'Wait' command grants +30 avoid and -4 damage taken._

**Terrum is the broad terrain manipulation skill. Represents his ice manipulation, I guess.**

**FYI, Robin leveled up because of Risen hordes on the way to Plegia.**

**"Awfully interesting thing to be asking a girl on the battlefield."**

**Random trivia.**

**I had to make a _new_ class because I didn't have any spear/tome/dragonstone users. Aversa is a Harbinger. **

**I got lazy halfway through the chapter. **

**Chrom's father, Seroun's name is based on the serous membrane, lining that protects internal organs.**

**You've only till I publish Chapter 10 to vote. I suggest you hop to it if you want to alter the story's path... It's 8 to 7 in favor of Enigma.**

**And by the way, I'll release notes for the other class/path at the end of the story. If you want them, of course.**


	10. 7-1 Si Vis Pacem

**Oh, haha... the ride isn't over yet with Chrom's party. I daresay it's more important than what happens on Robin's side, but...**

**Chrom recruits Morgan because he literally recruits everyone.**

**In any case, I don't own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

On the march back, Chrom noticed a great deal of things about his new tactician.

Aside from the pink hair, she had long pointed ears like Robin did, but her eyes were a swirling mix of carmine and dull violet Chrom didn't think possible. He could have stared at the streaks of red for years and never figured them out...

He wouldn't get the chance to do it at this rate, though.

"...So." She had a rather blank expression on her face, but he got the feeling that a million thoughts were flying through her head just then. "Is there something interesting on my face?" She stopped, contemplative.

"No, nothing like that." Chrom shook his head. "You just remind me of a friend of mine..."

More than just 'reminded him', but he wouldn't make it awkward at this moment.

"Yeah?" She grinned. "By any chance, were they named Robin?"

He gaped. There was quite a bit he didn't know about the man, and quite a bit the man didn't know about himself, but he always figured they'd figured they'd find a lead eventually.

Well, Robin was gone and said lead was standing in front of him... maybe. There was also Robin's sister, the unnaturally malevolent childish looking being.

"Y-yes." He cleared his throat. "He is. How do you know him?"

She pondered for a moment.

"Would you believe me if I said I was his daughter from the future?"

"I'd have my doubts, yes..."

She smiled. "In that case, I'm just a relative of his. We're good at the same things, you see."

"I understand. Well, I suppose if you're half as good at tactics as him, we're in good hands."

"Quite the pedestal you've put him on. I'll try to live up to your standards."

"You have my gratitude."

Morgan started to walk away.

"You know..."

She gave a mildly irritated, indulgent sigh. "It's past midnight, Captain. Perhaps now isn't the right time to have moral compunctions." But either way, she turned around, humoring him.

"You were there when Gangrel demanded the Fire Emblem, weren't you?" Morgan nodded, and he let out a deep breath. "Tomorrow, we plan to march to Ferox to request additional soldiers. But the Mad King's words plague me with their honesty... Gangrel has been many things, but I hear few have seen him legitimately angry. And I suppose it's rightfully so."

He wondered, briefly, if he should be trusting this stranger with the clothes of his friend. "My father, the last exalt, declared war on Plegia for many years for their religious beliefs... It was a brutal campaign, but I'd not heard of half the crimes Gangrel listed that day. It ended only after the exalt's mysterious death, 15 years ago." He cleared his throat.

"Plegia isn't wrong to recall its suffering, but Ylisseans suffered as well. The longer the war went, the fewer soldiers we had. Seroun started conscripting farmers, boys who could barely wield a pitchfork, and sending them to their deaths. In time, there was no food and the halidom began to collapse entirely. I was young, but I can still remember those times... how they affected my sister."

Morgan winced. "I... I see. What a terrible legacy to inherit..."

"Indeed. Our father, having died before her 10th year, left her nothing but Plegia's desire for vengeance and our own people's unbridled rage... My sister became a target for blame on all sides. Her own subjects began to hurl insults—and stones. She still bears the scar from one... But she never let them see her pain. Only Lissa and I understood."

"His war left its bloody gouges on everyone, but I can't even begin to imagine what it was like for your sister."

"I still do not understand how she does it, Morgan." He sighed. "I could never greet such hostility from my own people with warmth and patience. Even as our people vilified her, and tore down everything she stood for, she still tried to reach out for them and healed them. She brought the soldiers home to their families."

He sighed, aggravated. "And after the people 'forgave her'? She never resented them. She wanted nothing more than to stop the fighting, and everyone eventually came to understand it. But some would take advantage of that... people like King Gangrel."

Morgan blinked. Chrom had been talking for quite a while. "It's true, but... It's impressive in itself that the Mad King managed to restore Plegia to even half of its former glory despite the people's rage. They only have so many fighters because there were no homes left aside from barracks, seeing as most of the villages were razed. He's fallen now, but... Emmeryn is truly admirable because she upholds the belief that peace is not a privilege, but a right." Morgan narrowed her eyes as she felt a malicious presence, but ignored it. She was on guard already.

Chrom turned to her. "I suppose you grew up in Plegia?" But he shook his head. Now wasn't the time to scavenger hunt for clues.

"You're not wrong... It's shocking that peace is really something we must fight for. But perhaps Gangrel will only understand peace when death gives it to him. Perhaps I must be death's agent. Emmeryn would never order him killed, and I wouldn't want her to be forced to."

"Well spoken, sir."

Footsteps. Boots crunching on grass.

They both turned to the blue-haired swordsman.

"Marth..."

"Good evening."

"...How did you get in here?"

"The cleft in the castle wall, behind the maple grove."

"There? How is that-...Ugh."

"What's this about?" Morgan smiled.

"...The place he's talking about... I, um, I bashed in part of the wall while training with the Shepherds. It's only a small hole, and I thought it was well concealed, but..."

"Don't worry. Your secret is still safe. I come only with a warning."

"A warning?"

"The exalt's life is in danger."

"Wait. Emmeryn's? That's ridiculous. She's guarded at all hours."

"Apparently, not this hour. What if I told you I've seen the future? One where she's killed. Here. Tonight."

Chrom turned to Morgan, who'd only slightly earlier said that she was Robin's daughter from the future. But she simply turned her palms up. "I got nothing. Perhaps something like that will happen, but I'd assume you have proof?"

Marth chuckled. "Rather astute." He drew his blade. "I'm about to save your life..." He jerked his head to the left. "From him."

True to form, an assassin burst from the bushes, charging at Marth. The swordsman tossed his sword into the air, following it with a jump of his own. He caught it mid air and brought it down on the assassin.

"Will this be enough proof for you?"

Morgan whistled, but her eyes widened. Her hand grew dark as she felt another malicious presence. Purple smoke billowed off of it, but no one paid it any heed as Chrom and Marth communicated soundlessly.

Another assassin leaped down from the trees, but she was already moving. Marth turned and saw the assassin, beginning to parry, but she tripped over the other assassin, allowing the first one to slice her mask in two, causing his... her hair to fall as well. Wreathed in black flames, Morgan stabbed forward with her hand, going straight through the man's abdomen. The flames lifted, revealing a steel blade. Her ardor vanished entirely as she pulled her arm out of the torso, completely clean.

As the assassin hit the ground, she turned, looking at Chrom's stunned stare and Marth's... Marth had no expression, so she had no way of knowing what he was thinking. She cleared her throat, suddenly self conscious.

There would be time to talk later.

"Okay... We should probably defend the Exalt, right?"

"Right! Let's go!"

* * *

"Hmph... Two assassins couldn't even touch that princeling, could they?"

"...Damn it all, my son is in Plegia right now... I need to hel-Ghk!"

...

...

"No, I haven't forgotten, Grima. Alright, I want the Emblem in my hand and the exalt dead at my feet. Let nothing distract you from either purpose."

* * *

They rushed into the palace, finding Emmeryn's chamber.

"Emm!"

"Chrom! Take Lissa and flee while there's still time!"

"No! I'm not leaving you here! Just stay where it's safe!"

Chrom turned, seeing Marth look at her sword introspectively.

"What's wrong?"

Marth turned to him and back to the sword, but shook her head. "It's nothing for you to be worried about."

He scoffed. "Seems that nothing ever is with you."

"M-my apologies."

"Just stay in front of the door, will you? We can handle the assassins."

Morgan sent five of the Shepherds through a corridor behind Emmeryn's chamber in order to better protect both sides. Marth stood in front of the locked door, though there was a second entrance that wasn't locked, though it would be much harder to get to.

Chrom, Lissa, Kellam, Sully and herself were to the right of the chamber. Frederick, Sumia, Lon'qu, Maribelle and Ricken composed the fighting force on the left side. It would be harder to issue commands on their side, but she really just wanted them to block off attackers from the left.

"...Alright. I'm going to take the right side to view the battlefield, and Kellam to the narrow passageway. Chrom, Sully, um, just draw lots and see who goes where."

Moments later, Chrom strode up to her. "The epitome of decisiveness, I see."

Morgan ignored that.

"So if they're trying to assassinate Emmeryn, they're going to attempt to break through the vault door, since the other corridor is way to hard to get through." She turned up her palms, before drawing her blade. "That said, I think any assassins coming from this side have a good chance of getting through here... Or they would, if we weren't here, right?"

Chrom chuckled. "Right. Let's make short work of them."

Morgan drew her blade, holding it low to the ground. There was no real point of getting into an attacking stance considering her talents, and she was used to having a tome at the ready.

Thinking about the tome she did have with her, she shook her head and sighed. Definitely no good right now. There was another figure, with large rabbit ears and sharp features. That had to be... Panne, right?

"What? Another assassin?" Chrom narrowed his eyes.

Marth shouted, though. "Halt! Panne is not your enemy!"

"You know her?"

"I know... of her. I knew she would be here tonight."

"Quite the prophet, aren't you?"

"As you say. And I swear to you that Panne is an ally."

"...Good enough for me, I suppose. We leave this Panne character be."

But Panne apparently had some business with _them_.

"You smell like lizard."

"..."

"..."

"...What, me?" Morgan pointed to herself. "I didn't even know lizards had scents; I mean-"

"So tell me, what causes a manakete to travel with human company?"

Morgan sighed. "For one, I doubt you've seen much of us. And second... well, friends of my father and all that. I'd help them even if they weren't human."

Apparently, this was good enough for Panne. Chrom raised an eyebrow, but lowered it as he saw figures in the shadows.

"Hm?" Chrom asked. "Enemies are approaching from this side."

Morgan nodded. "Thanks for the heads up. Alright... If we want to defend the passageway, I'm afraid we have to wait for them to come to us."

A cursory glance showed that Sully and Kellam weren't having much trouble with the passageway at all. Marth sliced through two soldiers at once and didn't seem even the slightest bit more weary for it.

Morgan leaped forward, delivering a Dark Mage from its mortal coil.

Chrom followed up, engaging a fighter. Morgan jumped back, intending to cover the gap between them.

Chrom slashed partly through the fighter's torso, severing veins and arteries, but not actually dispatching the man. He also moved back... but in the process, a thief wearing some strange gear dashed through the gap, knocking Morgan to the side and passing Lissa without so much as a confrontation.

Chrom's eyes widened. The man was headed straight for the other passage.

"STOP HIM!" Chrom roared, dashing back. Morgan followed, but kept her eyes to the right side.

Chrom had stopped at Emmeryn's door for whatever reason, so she gave up on defending that part. "Hey! Sully, shout if we get swarmed from the right side!"

"Sure! What's happening?"

Morgan gulped. "Truth be told, I have absolutely no idea."

When she reached the passage, Chrom had a hand over his forehead, already inside of the room. Morgan just stood in front of the door.

"So... You're telling me you joined a group of assassins and didn't know you were supposed to kill the Exalt?"

Gaius sighed. "When you put it like _that_ it sounds so bad."

"I make it sound bad because it is bad."

Emmeryn raised a hand.

"Peace, Chrom. His intent was not to kill, so perhaps we might come to a consensus? Our friends are fighting for their lives; there are far better times to argue semantics."

As if cued in by a magic message, Sully shouted. "Oi! The right side is getting fucked!"

Thoroughly chastised, Chrom gulped and sighed. "...Then, I trust you will not kill the Exalt?"

Gaius nodded. "Oh, but I'm not going back there _now._ They'd murder me." Chrom nodded and left, passing Morgan.

Emmeryn smiled. "In that case, might you stay until the assassins leave? It seems there's no safe way to get out at the moment."

Gaius smirked, pulling a lollipop off of his bandoleer.

"Alright, then I'm yours to command. My thanks, your Grace." He nodded to the tactician as he left the room as well.

Morgan smiled lightly. "Odd bunch of characters, wouldn't you say?"

Emmeryn closed her eyes.

"Perhaps... and what of you?"

"What about me?"

"You're an enigma... Why is it that you fight?"

The tactician stared blankly for a moment, before shrugging with upturned palms.

"To put it simply... I was brought here to help. That's what I'm doing."

Emmeryn nodded. "Perhaps it's hard to understand you, and harder to trust you, but I want to believe in you."

Morgan giggled. "Well, you're not wrong on any account, but I won't fail your trust. Thank you, your Grace."

She curtsied before walking back into the fray.

* * *

The battle lasted far longer than she imagined it should have, with the Shepherds forming something of a large unbreakable shield. A fortress under siege, in more than one sense.

Morgan began to move down the corridor.

In time, the leader showed up.

Morgan narrowed her eyes. "Gran- No. What are _you_ doing here?"

The being using her grandfather's body tilted its head curiously.

"Hm? Who are you?"

Shit, that was right. But she couldn't say anything now, with the rest of the Shepherds closing in.

She lifted her blade. If she remembered correctly, this would be the second time Validar died.

She prepared to execute the sorcerer.

With a slash and a whisper:

"May your soul fly free."

* * *

"Ugh... Then it's over?" Validar laughed to himself. This was the second time he'd died; the first time resulting in the relinquishing of his body. Perhaps the second time would truly free him from Grima's heart?

"Heh. Not quite."

A shadowy figure squatted next to Validar's broken body. Silver hair, red eyes, and an ever familiar cloak...

"R-Rime?"

But it was a male voice. Who knows what happened to that ice dragon, after all...?

"Not her, old man. But you need to get up. Your work is not yet finished."

And that was the problem, wasn't it?

* * *

Morgan walked alone on one of the walkways surrounding the courtyard.

The battle was over, and Marth had disappeared... or so she thought.

She blinked as she observed the gleaming tip of Falchion at her throat.

"My, that's quite hostile of you, 'Marth.'" She smiled humorlessly and still managed to make it seem charming.

"..."

"You speak first." Morgan gestured, yawning.

Silence.

"..."

"..."

**"Who _are_ you?"**

Morgan blinked.

"I'm Morgan. The daughter of Robin?"

Marth shook her head. "That can't be right. From what I know, he didn't marry until just a a year or two before Grima's resurrection. Robin never had any children."

"...Oh, boy, should've thought this would happen..." Morgan chuckled. "And of you? As far as I know, there's never been a 'Marth'... or for that matter, Chrom didn't have any children, nor did he ever marry. Lissa didn't have any blue-haired children. So why do you have the Brand of the Exalt?"

"...?"

Morgan slouched, hooking her fingers into pockets in the coat. "...We may come from different timelines. The same, but not quite. I imagine that... one of them was tampered with in an unnoticeable way, and I somehow doubt it was my own."

Marth lowered her blade slightly, but didn't stop pointing it at the enigma.

"Alright..." The swordsman muttered. "In that case, I'll trust your good intentions. I hope you've inherited your father's penchant for tactics at the least, seeing as you're down one..."

Morgan smiled lightly. "Don't doubt it, little hero."

Marth stared at her, stunned for a moment. Morgan tilted her head at the gesture, but the foreseer simply shook her head with a grim smile.

"Think nothing of it, Mo...rgan." She seemed to trail off when saying the second half of the tactician's name, but Morgan didn't pay it any heed. "Our paths will cross again."

And Marth was gone. Morgan supposed she could have chased the girl down-she was unparalleled in travelling under darkness-but thought better of it.

"Naga... Couldn't you have at least told them we were going to hijack the timeline?"

If someone was listening, they could never be certain if it was just a swear or if she was literally complaining to the Divine Dragon.

Either worked.

* * *

**"Don't doubt it, little hero."**

**On the bright side, I _do _have this.**

**Morgan**

**Enigma**

**Level- 5**

**HP- 46**

**Str- 30**

**Mag- 31**

**Skl- 26**

**Spd- 24**

**Lck- 21**

**Def- 25**

**Res- 23**

**Items-**

**Steel Sword**

_More powerful than its iron brother._

**Skyeater**

_Dark magic that blurs the boundary of heaven and earth. Morgan only. -7 Mov when equipped._

**Dragonstone**

_Allows a Manakete to transform into a dragon._

**Skills-**

**(Personal) Cumulus**

_Each turn spent without attacking/being attacked, +2 Str/Mag._

**(Wanderer Lv. 1) Anathema**

_Avoid and Critical Avoid -10 to all enemies within a 3 tile radius_

**(Wanderer Lv. 10) Terrum**

_Using the 'Wait' command grants +30 avoid and -4 damage taken._

**(Enigma Lv. 5) Ardor**

_Uses Str+Mag value as critical rate. Critical hits with Ardor activated do more damage (4x). (Activation%=Skl)_

**This chapter is 3rd person limited with Chrom as the main focus.**

**YOU FUCKERS TIED THE POLL AGAIN**

**Well, I'm not mad, but I'm extending it to chapter 12.**

**That makes over 9000 views, by the way. And 9 reviews last chapter as well, I feel appreciated :D**

**On another note, I originally planned to lay the RobinxOlivia stuff on thick and then discombobulate you guys with a surprise pair, but the more I wrote it the more I liked it. Now it feels like it's too fast paced, but whatever.**

**Also, Morgan remembers far less about the previous timeline than Lucina. Why do you think?**

**Appearances, for the record (and because there's always someone who doesn't catch it)**

**Inigo's Awakening eyes are definitely hazel (in Fates they're blue but that's probably the voodoo magic at play) and Olivia's range anywhere from gray to pink depending on how gratuitously you're interpreting the portrait. I chose dull violet with red swirls for Morgan (and I don't know how that's supposed to look honestly), somewhere in between. Inigo's are hazel-red, because portrait voodoo. As per standard, sharp teeth and pointy ears.**

**Robin's dragon form is white (imagine an FE ice dragon, but less blue), slightly more serpentine than the norm, though the body is four legged. He also has four of Grima's feathery wings, two at the shoulders and two at the small of the back. **

**On that note, when Naga says 'Grima's weak spot is the nape of its neck.'**

**Heh. Wonder how she figured that one out.**

**I'm always proud of myself when I write an author's note less than 100 words, but... that's not _me._ Though I suppose it's my fault for being a vague writer in general.**

**And just _what_ is going on with Morgan and Lucina?**

**_(sinisterlaughter)_**


	11. 7-2 Para Bellum

**I don't own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

He had something of an odd problem.

Upon being introduced to the Plegian Outpost, the soldiers, save for the silver-haired archer, all prostrated themselves (though some were clearly less enthusiastic about it than others), and started shouting nonsense like 'hail Lord Robin' and 'the Wanderer has come to exact revenge on our tormentors' and after maybe a minute of this, the King started doing it as well.

Aversa just smiled at his suffering.

"_Aversa._"

"Hm?"

"_What is this about?_"

"...I'll explain it when we get to the capital. Long story short, you're something of a major religious figure? Also, and don't go around saying this, but you ended the war 15 years ago."

He did not, in fact, remember anything about that. Well, that was natural, seeing how the past few weeks had gone, but he would have like a prior warning. Any prior warning, to be honest.

"Alright, Wanderer." Gangrel smiled, in a non-mocking fashion (which was actually quite strange on his face). "We must spread word of your return to us! Let us be off."

"Ah! Wait!"

The dark mage and the archer were standing behind them. The dark mage was smiling (but he never seemed to stop) and the other seemed a little tired if one looked carefully.

"Let us go with you. Henry can spread word much faster than just those on foot."

The white-haired boy grinned. "Well, I never agreed to this but hey! Sounds like fun!"

Inigo contemplated for a moment. "I also need to get to the Capital. I'm not stationed here."

Gangrel nodded, tapping his chin. "Hm... Excellent points, my subjects!" His voice dropped to a stage-whisper. "Not to mention, we _have_ been having something of a Risen problem, so we're better off with more firepower."

The archer nodded. "Glad to hear it."

* * *

Robin would admit that the capital of Plegia wasn't quite the ruin it was made out to be.

The villages surrounding it were all destroyed-whether this was meant to be an aesthetic or if it was a dark reminder, he had no idea. Might never know, at this rate. But the capital itself was... bustling wasn't the right word. The desert sun sapped energy out of every citizen, mellowing them out and making them more focused on their goals. There were many brick buildings, not organized in any particular fashion, but there were clearly more barracks than anything else.

He wondered why.

"When the villages were destroyed in the previous war, all the survivors retreated to the capital. The only kind of housing that could fit that many people were the barracks. That's also likely the only reason Plegia still exists."

He must have spoken aloud, but the person who answered was even more shocking. Gangrel had something of a grim countenance as he walked slowly through his city. People waved at him; smiled, even. Gangrel smiled back... even if it was more than a little hollow.

The man was haunted. That was the feeling Robin got. He wouldn't know, of course.

"My king." Aversa spoke. "I've to help with a little... problem, my brother has."

The man simply kept staring forward listlessly. "Hm? Yes, of course. Just be back before we host the feast."

Aversa and Henry burst out laughing at this.

Robin stared at them bemusedly. "Did... was there a joke in there that I missed?"

"Nyahaha! Oh, the King has some of the best jokes. there hasn't been a feast in Plegia for the past 20 years! This is all desert, haha!"

This did not amuse Robin at all, but from the way Gangrel held his arms out, it probably was a joke. Maybe. But if it was funny to them, who was he to criticize it?

Aversa wiped a tear. "Alright. In all seriousness, we should have your memories back by night. I'm nothing if not a master of dark arts."

"The Dragon's Table, right?" Inigo yawned. "I have some business there as well."

Robin wondered briefly if the boy was just following them, but shook off the thought. It'd only been a day our two since they'd met, so it wouldn't matter if it was a coincidence. Henry waved them off with a bemused smile (as far as he could tell) and split from Gangrel.

Either way, Aversa simply nodded. "It's not so far from here, after all."

* * *

Sands whipped up in odd patterns. As they approached the Table- a dark, spire that seemed to meet the heavens- the energy in Robin's heart seemed to amplify. A grand staircase was in the front, though there seemed to be entrances to something like a basement. Near the top of the building were lizard-like wings, and windows circled the building, though Robin couldn't be sure if anyone could reach high enough to see out of them.

It was surrounded by ruins. They could be extremely old or extremely new, but they might never know.

The dark energy seemed to calm.

Aversa smiled humorlessly.

"...Welcome home, brother."

They continued to walk. Up the staircase, into the building.

Sound did not echo in there for some reason. The wind whipping through the windows did not amplify, and the clack of shoes was almost muffled.

The room was unexpectedly circular. Well, it was a spire so perhaps he should have expected that, but...

A large throne sat in the center. Green and red rings fell away from it like ripples in water. The throne itself was stone, with skeletal wings and a dragon statue on top. Columns branched from the walls, with grand arches connecting them.

And a figure sat on the throne. Inigo gasped, but said nothing.

The figure had a cloak, very much like his own. The hood was up, making it impossible to see their hair or eyes. But even so, he could feel the black force radiating off of it.

Aversa said nothing, but from the way her eyes narrowed, she wasn't sure who sat on the throne either.

But if they were there, there had to be a reason. No normal follower would have the gall to do that.

The three of them simply stared at the unknown, evaluating their status as a threat.

...But at that point, it spoke.

"How very... clever. Which one of those interlopers thought up a resistance-inducing memory hex, I wonder...?"

With his enhanced hearing, Robin heard Inigo start to breathe more heavily.

"But truthfully, I know that a direct takeover would never work." It hopped off the throne, stalking toward Robin. "Still, I can't imagine any of them having the prowess to cast such dark magic on the avatar of darkness." It stood directly in front of Robin, almost floating.

The hood flipped back as the figure turned towards Inigo.

Robin's own face regarded the archer with curious eyes.

He raised an eyebrow and swept his hand through his hair in an excessively Robin-like way. It was almost _too_ much so.

The impostor(?) spoke once more. "And who, exactly, are you?"

It was not aimed at Robin, nor Aversa.

Inigo turned up his palms in a hapless gesture. "Who are you?" Well, he _did_ know, but...

The being narrowed its eyes, but sighed. "Never mind. I try not to think about what I could have been, anyways. In any case, I'm Robin... you can tell, can't you?"

Inigo let the point go. Arguing it would be bad for him, as well.

"Memory seal, huh?" Other-Robin turned back. "Well, why don't we fix that? Free of charge."

Faster than lightning. A hand hovering over the sternum, near the diaphragm, and another touching the forehead. Spinning the lower hand in a circular motion, a black circle with purple runes began to spin eerily. The upper hand was becoming cloaked in black light, as well.

The runes at the sternum stopped spinning, turning golden. The circle expanded to cover his entire body.

If Inigo remembered correctly from one of Morgan's half-baked explanations, the runes were actually 'prognosis' runes, and the hand at the top could either inflict a negating curse or draw the energy away, depending on the situation. The prognosis was generally always at the chest, but the curse-remover could be anywhere on the body. It was a curse loaded with some of Grima's power, to create something of a 'self-feeding jail', so it was probably for the best that it was removed at the Table.

The black light turned to white light, as if a poison was being neutralized, and the runes began to fade. The white energy traveled through the impostor's body and into the ground, dying away.

He removed the upper hand first, stepping away with the lower hand in place.

Both lowered. A proud smile, of sorts.

"There."

The other Robin snickered.

"That was an awful lot of half-digested dark energy to be holding, even for you..." He looked towards the entrance. "Risen feed off of things like that, you know? Perhaps I'd even call this situation... ironic?" He collapsed on the throne, again, this time grinning. Now was not the time to question the other figure.

As the man burst out laughing, Robin clutched his stomach. Vertigo from reclaimed memories? Now was not the time.

Either way, it was up to them to fight.

Other-Robin began narrating in a deadpan voice.

"Three units, one of which isn't capable of fighting right now. There are Deadlords buried here, but it's not as if they were fed enough power to put them at full capability. What we're looking for... is some _strategy_, huh?"

The man started laughing even harder.

As he calmed down, he waved them off.

"I'm probably going to be waiting around for quite some time, so I need to stay occupied. Give me a show, would you?"

* * *

The moment they left the Table, Robin threw up on the ground. Aversa looked away uncomfortably while Inigo pat his back in a somewhat concerned fashion.

Somewhat.

He wiped his mouth.

"Ugh... I'll talk later. We have a battle to fight."

Of the twelve Deadlords, there were 8. By 'non-full power', the other him probably meant two-thirds, perhaps less. But it hardly mattered, considering that he didn't know their original capabilities.

"Oh...? Ready to lead us, dear brother?"

"Hm? No, I feel wretched. But that won't stop me, I suppose."

Inigo readied his bow as Aversa leveled her spear.

Two foot units on the defending side. The four he could determine were on horses, but was definitely another set walking alongside them.

Paladin, Valkyrie, Dark Knight, Bow Knight. In the sands, their mounted advantage hardly helped, but dead horses were incredibly hard to deal with in comparison to live ones.

"Alright... Inigo, how good is your aim?"

He got a chuckle. "I'm actually quite shocked that you asked. How about a demonstration, instead?"

In two smooth actions, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and sent it off.

...If Robin was looking carefully, was that arrow non-pointed? No, that was...

The Paladin seemed to brush off the arrow, letting it bounce off... but by some strange means, an icicle sprouted in the air where the arrow had been, spearing the deadlord.

It did not kill it, but somehow did more damage than expected.

_Cirrus: A mysterious ability that allows one to choose between magical and physical impacts mid-attack._

...What... What the hell? Also, he hadn't been hearing his analyst's voice for quite a while. But that was beside the point.

"How was that, Fa... Robin?"

He stared blankly. Mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

"...You know what, I don't know. I really don't. Good job." And it was good aiming, too.

"...We shouldn't split up. The lance makes it hard to deal with being surrounded, and... well, the bow is sort of self-explanatory, but it's better to defend." He commanded. He got nods from both of them.

Besides that, he somehow got the feeling both of them were holding tomes, but...

As they got closer, the other four appeared.

Sage, Assassin, Swordmaster, General.

An odd group indeed.

Unsurprisingly, the Sage reached them first, as they guarded the castle. He nodded toward Aversa silently (something that was left ajar when his memories returned) and she raised the silver spear to attack.

...She moved faster than expected. Like a dark wind, her black robes obscured her figure as she nearly teleported-no, that was a true teleport- towards the sage, unexpectedly covering the distance.

As the point struck, rather than letting it sit in, she rended it to the side, tearing a chunk out of the magic user. It was followed up by a regular arrow, tipped with ice.

First one down.

"Inigo! Just finish off the Paladin first!"

"Certainly." Another arrow-turned-magic-pike launched forward. "I aim to please! ...Though, I'm not quite sure who's to please here..."

The paladin toppled off of its horse, dissolving into dark energy.

And wasn't that a recharge? Technically, he was simply reclaiming his own power, but that was semantics.

Six left. Aversa had been engaged by the swordmaster, but being skilled in her craft prevented the blade from ever reaching from her. Swiftly, as if warping-that time wasn't a real teleport, he just knew it- she thrust her spear forward and appeared behind the Risen, reclaiming it from its back.

She checked her nails and shook her spear, which was surprisingly endearing.

Five left, then.

"Hey! Inigo, retreat so that they can't attack you up close! Aversa, you can start advancing since there's only two left!"

The Dark Knight approached Inigo, a spear of lightning shooting from its hands. Inigo dodged quite gracefully, retaliating with a pointed arrow. It was being followed up by the General, which meant that he would be defenseless for a while as well...

Aversa took an arrow to the arm from the Bow Knight, which had just engaged her. If he listened carefully, he could hear a sigh.

"Well, that's going to scar, won't it? ...The things I do in the name of beauty..."

He held his tongue and kept the sass in check.

She was being surrounded by blackened, icy petals. She raised an arm, causing them to converge above her. The arrow seemed to freeze and break, chips sliding out of the wound.

And then, a white dragon.

It was nearly the same as his own, but she seemed too lack the feathery wings, making her ground-bound, for whatever that was worth. Features were more angled, but perhaps that was (ironically) a product of higher maturity. Claws more angled, ridges more defined, even the face was more intimidating, though that might have been the shadows rising off of the body.

The Bow Knight seemed to back away. It was too late at that point. Icy breath (white, he noted) blasted straight at the Risen, before the dragon set its sights on the Valkyrie. It seemed to prepare some intense fire magic (and wasn't that bad for an ice dragon?) but she was already swiping with a claw, bisecting the creature.

He'd been so mesmerized by the sight that he forgot to check on Inigo... oh.

Another white dragon. Damn it, was everyone a manakete these days?

Granted, he had to understand Aversa. But this guy...

It was a slaughter at that point. Perhaps the Valkyrie would have given them some trouble with its legendary fire magic, but it was clearly gone.

They reconvened, back in their human forms. Robin shook the dizziness out of his eyes.

Aversa yawned. "We'll make it back before morning. How about you... carry me back? I'm not that heavy, after all."

With a gust of wind, she'd landed on his back. He sighed. Did she want to act older or younger? But he had to admit that she wasn't wrong.

Inigo coughed, sweeping back the hair that covered the tips of his ears, revealing them to be pointed. "I know that you'll likely figure this out in good time, but Morgan tells me to keep things simple when it gets complicated. I didn't have any business at the Dragon's Table; rather I'm your son from the future. Nice to meet you, Father."

There it was. When the memories were no longer an issue, they had found a way to create a new one.

And wasn't that convenient?

* * *

_Perfect landing._

A great, lakelike oasis like this was unique in itself... he could see why such a great deal of Plegia seemed to surround it. If you weren't a fan of the cold, you didn't want to be stuck in the desert night, giving him a strange amount of privacy.

Inigo somersaulted off of a freezing pike, strings of ice trailing from him. There was a limited window of time to set up the stage, but that was okay.

That was just the matter of skill.

Spinning in the air, he manipulated the ice to form a platform; really resembling an overturned flower. He tossed that platform down, causing it to float due to its wide and thin nature. At the peak of his jump, he began grasping at the frozen lake and pulling up ice at sixty degree angles to match the first spike. There were four corners, converging at a single point, but not quite touching. Inigo straightened himself, making sure the platform ice reached its destination.

As he landed on the tiny platform; really only wide enough for his two feet and maybe a prop, he swallowed his trepidation and began to move his legs... or he would have, but came to a pause.

The next part was easy, but something about the set-up was... it was all rather simple, honestly. He grimaced as he took note of the rather crude stalactites that composed the stage. If he had to say something about it, it was that his parents would have do-

No. Don't go that route. He cleared his head and removed his hold from the ice. It would melt on its own-perhaps faster than normal- but it wouldn't make a scene. On a whim, he tried to recall something he'd seen before. Ice rose in columns, occasionally swerving at 90 or 45 degree angles.

Four walls, a small roof... a chimney that billowed snow instead of smoke? No, he couldn't figure that one out.

With a sigh, he slid off of one of the four pikes and collected his weapon, planning to head back to the inn.

As he made his way to his room, he gazed at the room housing the cause of their problems. Well, perhaps that wasn't exactly fair, but Inigo knew his father to be quite the controversial figure.

This was an odd conundrum as well; he had the firestarter himself within his reach, but there was just about nothing he could do. Or maybe there was something, and he just wasn't thinking about it? Some second, third option that wouldn't reveal itself to him because he wasn't good enough? Perhaps his father, or even Morgan was good enough to-

No. He shook those thoughts out of his head again. Walking toward his tent, he thought deeply.

There was that other deal as well.

That Grima... It surely wasn't his.

The way it'd seen him with curious eyes, as if he was something of a dream rather than a real person, there was absolutely no way that was the same as the being that masqueraded as... no. The being that played at being his father.

That said, the fact that they left through a portal and hadn't been chased through... Had his father not been lying? He'd instinctively classified Grima's tear-stained attack as the practical joke of someone without proper humor. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized...

_What reason does a bird have for flying? It doesn't, obviously. It's a bird. It just flies._

So clearly twisted... or was it really?

But it was in the past now. Perhaps Grima had managed to not kill his mother, but he would never know.

Perhaps it was for the better.

Even so, it was ever-worrying.

He dreamed of ice and shadows.

* * *

_His sister dropped the tome, effectively breaking down as she failed to deliver a killing strike. And who would blame her? In front of her was..._

_The shadowy figure raised an arm, but paused, as if fighting itself._

_"N-no... I won't allow you two to die like this!"_

_Frost. A lot of it. It was only then that he realized there was magic being pumped through the ice trapping him and his sister... but for what?_

_He tried to speak, but it was for naught. The ice just kept creeping up on him. Damn, he should have had an affinity for the stuff, but it was locking him in nevertheless._

_"Pl-please. Just sleep until I'm gone."_

_Then, nothing._

_..._

_..._

* * *

_"What admirable work."_

_He opened his eyes, or at least tried to. The ice was still holding him in place, and the way it reverberated showed that whoever was talking must have been using telepathy._

_So he tried to project his thoughts._

_"Wh-who are you?"_

_A chuckle. The voice was probably female, but seemed older than imaginable. It pushed an uneasy feeling into his chest, meaning it was either unimaginably malicious or unimaginably divine._

_"You've slept for quite some time, nestling. I had promised... someone, that if he died I would release you."_

_Inigo paused._

_Just sleep until I'm gone._  


_Then it had to be...?_

_"Truth be told, he's not dead yet, but I never expected him to survive this long. It looks to be that this world is fighting a losing battle."_

_Then that meant-_

_"There's another chance, however."_

_"What about my friends? Cynthia, Owain, Gero-"_

_"...Nestling. It's been 100 years."_

_He was silent after that._

_"There's another world, parallel to your own... albeit, time flows more quickly in this stream. They intend to take a portal back through time to fix their world, but they need more strength. If you wish to see them again, I can only offer this much."_

_"I'll do it. But what about-"_

_"Your sister has already agreed. Be warned: They will not know you. They may believe you servants of the Fell Dragon. This is my last favor to a fellow dragon forced into power. Stop Grima's awakening, and secure your fate and future."_

_The next time they awoke, it was under a brighter sky._

* * *

**Inigo**

**Glace**

**Level- 5**

**HP- 37**

**Str- 27**

**Mag- 27**

**Skl- 33**

**Spd- 29**

**Lck- 26**

**Def- 20**

**Res- 23**

**Items-**

**Steel Bow**

_More powerful than its iron brother._

**Grandis**

_Anima magic that freezes even the passage of time._

**Dragonstone**

_Allows a Manakete to transform into a dragon._

**Skills-**

**(Personal) Nimbus**

_Luck-based avoid doubles._

**(Wanderer Lv. 1) Anathema**

_Avoid and Critical Avoid -10 to all enemies within a 3 tile radius_

**(Wanderer Lv. 10) Terrum**

_Using the 'Wait' command grants +30 avoid and -4 damage taken._

**(Glace Lv. 5) Cirrus**

_Uses the smaller (Def or Res) number for enemy damage modifier. (Activation%=Skl+Spd x .75)_

**"What reason does a bird have for flying? It doesn't, obviously. It's a bird. It just flies." -Robin, Timeline B1**

**...So, Grando in Latin actually means hailstorm. Who would have thought?**

**Si vis pacem, para bellum. If you want peace, prepare for war. That's chapter 7 in its entirety.**

**Last chance to vote. On the profile, it's a blind poll now, though the tally is still the same.**

**I think the next stat sheet will be Chrom, then Aversa.**


	12. Three: Commander of Disaster

**I don't own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

Vasto had met Validar a few times.

The first time had been in some obscure village, travelling alongside General Mustafa for nearly the first time. The war had struck again, this time taking his father with it. His mother still breathed, thanks to the arrival of Mustafa's army, but...

Originally, he had wanted the Ylisseans to 'spare us.'

Now?

Well, now he understood the Plegians chose to worship Grima. He just wanted them _gone_, and soon.

Either way, Validar was an unassuming man. Tan, with dark hair. A relaxed smile and a grandstanding posture, but there was nothing innately suspicious about him.

His general had asked, "Are you going to return to the Grimleal soon, Validar?"

"...I don't think so. I just want to raise my-"

A white-haired child with the same tan skin looked at them.

Validar rushed over to scoop her up.

"Yes. This is Aversa, my daughter." He smiled.

* * *

Vasto saw the duo travelling through a village and he stared for a moment. By Grima, this was supposed to be a regular patrol!

But...

He brought his wyvern down.

"What are you two doing? You should be home."

The boy, Robin if he remembered correctly, shook his head with eyes widened.

Aversa spoke.

"Home's gone."

He grimaced. Did that mean that...?

He was hardly a devout worshipper.

"Alright then... If you say so. But we're in the middle of a war, I can't let a couple of children under 10 travel unassisted."

Aversa stared at him blankly, but nodded.

"I'm 11 and Robin's 6. Do you really have the time or space to keep us safe?"

Damn. That was a good question.

"Er... I'll just drop you off at the nearest village, but you can't be crossing the desert with the Ylissean forces on the warpath."

Thankfully, he didn't get any complaints after that.

* * *

They stopped in a village, and after dealing with the rather awkward affair of all of the villagers bowing to Robin, they came upon an inn.

It was surprising that everyone in Plegia knew what their 'starchild' looked like, yet none of the Ylissean forces were out to get him. Aversa had gone to check on something, so he was left to entertain Robin. He started with some anecdote about his father, though it left something of a bitter taste in his mouth. But he had managed to entrance the boy, so there was that.

"Sir, are you a commander?"

The inkeeper was speaking to him. He shook his head.

"No, I'm just a wyvern rider on patrol. Why?"

The man shook his head. "I see. That madman, Seroun, has finished his charge against the Dragon's Table. His forces are beginning to move up north."

He gulped.

_"Home's gone._"

"Then, did the Grimleal-"

The innkeeper grimaced and made a sorrowful expression. "No, as far as we know there were no survivors. In fact, we'd thought the two embodiments of Grima had died in the attack as well."

_Shit._ Most of the high command was in the south as well, seeing as most of the flourishing cities and towns were on the south side of the nation.

And if the pair had been only this far when he'd found them...

He heard a scream.

"The Exalt is coming!"

It wasn't a happy scream.

* * *

The town was mostly gone, now. Vasto was only one man, so he simply attacked whoever got close to the inn. Acheron, his mount, also attacked on its own, dealing with most of the small fries.

He loved that wyvern.

But they were slowly getting pushed back. That Exalt Seroun would enter a village, pick it clean, and then raze it down.

He'd seen it many times before. This wouldn't be some new exception.

He put in the extra effort, thinking of those ruined towns. He could almost smell the cooking flesh and burning buildings from-

He looked back.

The inn was on fire.

He looked forward.

The king himself, with a spear that seemed more like a flagpole, what with the bloody mark of the Exalt hanging off of it, was in front of him.

He might have been a decent soldier, but at that point, he was fairly certain of his fate.

Without reason or explanation, he was going to die. No recompense for his suffering, or bright side to the argument.

A blast of darkness from behind him. The girl held a purple book, just a basic Flux she'd probably just stolen from the inn.

It wouldn't help.

He was knocked back into the building, and he looked up to see Robin.

Just standing there, staring at his injuries.

"Damn it, you're the hope of Plegia... You have to run..."

He did nothing of the sword. He looked out of the building, to the soldiers in blue...

To the man in silver armor, holding a bloody flag with a spearhead.

Black hands seemed to rise out of the earth to grab at the boy, and he widened his eyes, trying to help.

Robin did not move an inch, even as he sunk into a black pool in the ground.

Aversa looked that way and ducked for cover, completely disregarding the soldiers she was badly attempting to fend off.

He had sunk even lower...

Vasto attempted to close his eyes as the starchild had disappeared entirely into the ground. They were fucked, now. Why did Ylisse even have dark ma-

A fang sprouted out of the ground.

Another.

A bony mask.

The boy was only six, so this being had to be at the minimum, an 8th of the dragon's actual size.

And the mask stretched from floor the ceiling regardless of this fact.

The neck began to rise out of the ground as well. It seemed to be struggling, but still moving like a burrowing snake.

Slowly, the first set of wings came out and pushed onto the ground.

Second.

Third.

The inn was destroyed at this point.

The avatar of Grima coiled up on the ground, seemingly leering at the soldiers.

It began to take off, but decided against it.

Vasto closed his eyes with a smile on his face.

* * *

They were the only three survivors, from either side of the battle.

"Report, Vasto."

"Commander Mustafa, The... Exalt Seroun has been killed."

Not a single other survivor on the field. If he didn't report it and those two didn't come back, no one would never find out.

"What? How!?"

Vasto smiled grimly.

* * *

**This interlude is inspired by Master &amp; Commander.**

**Absolutely amazing fix, chilling at times, but definitely always has a human tone. I can't replicate it and have no intention of doing so, but this chapter goes out to you.**


	13. 8-1 Towards the Next Battle

**I don't own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

Phila nodded to Emmeryn. "It'll take time to figure out how the assassination plot got so far. We have no leads right now."

Chrom scowled. "It was Plegia! I'm certain of it! They're willing to do anything for the Emblem; you have to come with us to Regna Ferox where it's safe!"

Emmeryn sighed. "And leave the people undefended? We're at a delicate balance right now, Chrom. Ylisse will not be able to stand against Plegia without a leader. They must stand with the confidence that their exalt protects them."

"And if something happens to you? Then what?"

"Your Grace, perhaps you might relocate to the eastern palace for now? Foreigners know nothing of it. It would be safer and you'd still be in Ylisse." Frederick said.

"...Hmm. Very well."

Chrom spoke. "Thanks, Emm. I mean it. We'll escort you to the palace before we head north towards the border."

* * *

Chrom stepped into one of the palace offices. Emmeryn said that she was lending it to the tactician, but she did have some mixed feelings about it.

This was especially strange, seeing as Emmeryn was a veritable idol of trust.

He opened the door and looked at the sunlit room, zeroing in on a figure scribbling notes on a piece of paper.

Chrom took note of her. She'd already secured a desk, as well as some books and maps.

...A _lot_ of maps. They'd had markings all over them, which was somehow unexpected, especially considering how hard it was to make one. They were well annotated, mostly in black. Anything from the terrain notes to the climate to the preferred method of travel was jotted down, even the place of her birth-wait, what?

"You're from Regna Ferox?"

Morgan put on a quizzical expression, before looking at the map.

There was a small area, circled in light red. Above the Longfort-well, that was understating it. It was towards the northern border of Ferox, slightly west of the capital.

She had a bittersweet expression.

"Ah. You're surprisingly perceptive." He wasn't sure if it was an insult or not. "I haven't been home in a long time..."

Chrom was silent.

"Well! Let's not get bogged down by that! I've a larger task than stewing over some special brand of homesickness." She grinned.

From the moment Chrom had met her, she'd been cheerful through and through. He'd somehow assumed she didn't have her own worries or sorrows, something that he was starting to regret.

Well, it'd only been a few weeks.

"No, we have time. I want to know more about my comrades."

"Oh, really? Alright! So, I was born on May 5th in Edelweiss, a Ferox province. I like traps and tactics, hate vegetables, though I've sort of grown out of that now, I have an older brother, and-"

Chrom sighed exasperatedly. "I didn't mean your personal ad. We were sorely lacking tacticians and you hardly seemed out for our blood... but as it is, you're so much of an enigma that even Emmeryn can't understand your motives beyond a gray haze. And she sees redeeming qualities in Gangrel of all people."

To be fair, Gangrel _did_ save his people at their worst, but Morgan wouldn't say anything.

She sighed, a light frown on her face.

"In that case, you want more than my word and my actions, correct?"

Silence fell. Having laid on the ground for a few moments, silence then proceeded to brush itself off, check for any bruises, then walk out of the room.

Chrom felt like he might be stepping somewhere dangerous, but he pressed on.

"...Yes. I suppose I do."

She rested her head in her palm, thinking.

"Hmm... Well, I don't know. I think that you'll just have to wait for me to prove it. Think you can trust me until then?"

He smiled jokingly. "I don't think you're going to give us much choice, right?" He adopted a straight face again. "Then I won't hold you at arm's length. Anyways, are you ready to march? We head east."

"Oh, so that's the plan? Alright, so when are we leaving?" Morgan asked. She'd need to look at some books. Not to mention, they were heading east?

Chrom gave an affirmative grunt. "We leave at noon tomorrow. Do you have your things in order?"

She nodded. "Of course, I'm always ready. What route are we taking?"

"In order to protect the Eastern Palace, it was designed so that the only route to it is was through Breakneck Pass. I'll warn you now: It'll be a long walk."

Not her place to say, but it was entirely too... predictable. Well, there was no way a day-one recruit like her could convince them to, like, head south or anything.

"Alright. I'll make preparations."

"Glad to hear it."

* * *

"Yo, Cherry."

"...Cherry?"

Morgan turned away from her book. It was the thief that they'd pseudo-hired the day previous because of an apparent 'misunderstanding in his contract.'

"Yeah, you. So, what does this job entail?"

She paused for a moment before speaking. "Honestly, I'm not so sure right now. You'd have to ask Chrom. I figure it's generally 'protect the people, go on patrols' but I suppose we're headed towards the eastern palace, so..."

"Not the usual, then? I suppose I should have expected that. What would you have me do?"

She turned back to her book for a second before turning and speaking.

"What is this, interviewing the employer? But... Hm. I suppose that you'd be at an advantage if we're going to Breakneck Pass, what with your thieving footwork or whatever they call that. Not to mention, if Plegia attacks, they'll mostly be axemen and you'll be able to use the forest as cover."

He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth, staring at the now glossy sheen.

"You're quite certain that Plegia's going to attack, aren't ya?"

"Risen from the south, Risen from the north, Plegia in the west... Even if I didn't think the assassination was an inside job, there's only one logical place for them to attack... Speaking of which, do you know anything about this insider?"

He raised his hands.

"Not a clue, Cherry. All I know is that it's someone who's more concerned about their personal health than their kingdom... Don't blame em, but it's likely one of those noble types... you know, old, nervous, constantly scared?"

She didn't know the type, but it made sense.

"Hm? Hmm... Makes sense, Gaius. I'll keep that in mind."

Morgan put down a book to stare at a map.

"Breakneck Pass, huh? ...The entire thing is a choke point for our enemies. We'll just have to make do, huh?"

* * *

Lissa groaned.

"...So, how long have we been walking now, Chrom? My feet are turning into a blister farm!"

"Oh, don't be so pessimistic, Lissa. It's just a healthy little stroll!"

"Healthy? Maybe. Little? Why don't you take those words and shove them-"

"Lissa. Some decorum would be appreciated." Frederick sighed.

Chrom turned again. "How are you faring, Morgan?"

She laughed. "Oh, I'm dying on my feet. How are you doing this, Captain?"

"Hah! You get used to it. Should I carry you?"

Morgan turned, slyly. "Was that an offer?"

"Woah! If that was an offer, extend it to me first! Me, your sister? ...Please?"

Regardless, Morgan walked faster to reach him. Voice only loud enough to 'seem casual' but not loud enough to discern the words from far away, she began to speak.

"Hey, that old guy in the back. Who is he?"

"The hierarch? He's been a friend of House Ylisse for many years. He guided Emmeryn during the early years of her rule. Why do you ask?"

Morgan exhaled. "Don't go spreading this around, but I can sense negative emotions... much in the same way your sister senses positive ones. Ignoring his nervousness, the further into the peaks we venture, the more fear he feels."

Chrom turned. Frederick was asking him something about why he was looking at the peaks so intently.

She spoke again. "Yeah, something definitely feels off. Get ready to defend yourself, but don't shout anything out."

Chrom saw Morgan's hands emit an oily shadow, but when he blinked, it was gone. The black ardor radiated off her body... more than possibly the reason why she was so hard for Emmeryn to read. That was just speculation, though.

Two bandits were approaching from the distance.

"Grah ha ha! Time to die, princey!"

Chrom already had his blade out, holding the bandits at bay. In the corner of his view, he saw that Morgan was drawing her own blade, shadowy smoke billowing off of her sleeves.

A wyvern approached from the mountains, far in front of them.

It lowered to the ground- not so much a landing as a dead drop, resounding on the shaky earth of the pass.

A man dismounted, wearing the traditional armor of wyvern riders and holding a steel axe. He had somewhat spiky hair and a cocky grin. "Heh. Now there's a familiar face. The name is Vasto."

"Familiar...? Who is familiar, here?" He narrowed his eyes. If the man said the name of his new tactician...

"Hah! You're probably thinking something threatening. I'll just make this short. I was one of the last people to see your father alive!"

He raised the axe.

"This time, I'm hunting down the Exalt, not the other way around. Fate works in mysterious ways!"

The hierarch ran forward, spreading his arms in a defensive gesture.

"Hold, sir! I am the man King Gangrel told you about! Did you not receive orders to take me into your protection?"

But Vasto simply pointed his axe at the hierarch instead.

"Heh. I've never met such a lowborn coward that would sell out his own sovereign! I received orders, but not to rescue a traitor!"

Vasto sighed, holding it up high above his head. The bandits advanced forward as to stop anyone from preventing the execution.

"There's far more to serving a nation than piling up gold in different arrangements. Not that a sub-human dastard like you would understand."

And before anyone could react, at the moment he stopped speaking, the axe fell, from shoulder to hip. The old man screamed...

Then stopped screaming.

"That's how it goes, huh? I'd assume even you're not so merciful as to spare a traitorous coward. Ylisseans! Surrender the Fire Emblem and your wench of a ruler, and spare yourselves a gory end!"

He mounted the steed again and the bandits attacked Chrom and Morgan, stopping them from swiftly dispatching the commander.

* * *

Chrom cursed as he knocked the bandit off balance and stabbed Falchion through its chest. Morgan crouched under a wide slash and spun, eviscerating darkness trailing behind her.

She took note of the fighters. Lon'qu and Gaius, the two fast swordsmen, were near the front, while she and Chrom stood at the very front. Towards the back, Phila guarded Emmeryn. Lissa was on the right side of the band, and Maribelle to the left.

It was impressive in itself, as she took to the ground to protect Emmeryn better. She rode her pegasus like a regular horse, and her form was better than a paladin's. The wings folded inwards, but it could still jump higher and float further than a regular horse could.

Commander of the pegasus knights, indeed. In fact, it was rather interesting in that a pegasus on the ground wouldn't be felled by an arrow in the same way that a flying one would. On the other hand, a pegasus was still much lighter and less armored than a horse, so Phila had to be able to dodge on the ground as well as she did in the air.

She raised her right arm and moved it around to make an eye-catching hand signal, Lon'qu and Gaius following the signal to dive into the trees. Sully and Vaike backed them up; they would need the extra firepower. Morgan stopped the rest of them from advancing, they needed to keep the heat off of them for a short while.

True to form, wyvern riders appeared from above the peaks to strike, as well as bandits moving forward. The wyvern riders were still far away, but Lon'qu quickly struck down one of the bandits. There was an archer that would probably be an issue, but there was nothing she could do about it now. The issue with archers was that, despite being kind of bad, they were accurate enough to hit a thief in the woods, which was... impressive in itself.

"Alright!" She shouted. "Everyone, advance!"

There was also the thing about the canyon, and how goddamn close they were to it. But she couldn't afford to simply walk on the left side, seeing as they would be shot down from afar if they just stood against the mountains.

A thief came to meet Gaius. Not much happened. The archer shot an arrow, and she watched the thief sink. Probably not lethal, but a low-defense unit getting struck was always a problem. Vaike moved forward to attack the archer, the massive axe slicing right through the bowman's torso. Chrom went to assist Gaius, and they took down the thief.

"Lissa, heal Gaius! Lon'qu, meet the wyvern riders coming over the cliffs!" Morgan's voice lowered. "Chrom, the wyvern riders over the canyon. Lure them out and take them down. Shout if you need help."

"Got it!"

Morgan moved back, observing... there was a black cloud moving toward them. Upon closer observation, they were actually... crows, weren't they? That was one of the insurmountable advantages of the other army. Information traveled _very_ fast. And that dark mage's coordination of the flock could intercept any other messenger birds with little effort.

But since they were here...

Then, did something happen in Plegia? She smiled grimly. This was just one of those times where she'd have to leave the job to someone else, right?

In any case, the wyvern riders weren't moving. The only people who could reach them over the cliffs or the canyon were Phila and Sumia, and she didn't like the idea of pitting either of them against axe fighters.

Slowly, the ground units all fell... but the wyvern riders still did nothing. The flock of crows left... and they started to pull back as well.

Something really weird must have been happening in Plegia.

She let out a sigh. What could she really do about it?

* * *

"By the way, how well guarded is the Eastern Palace?" Chrom stared up at the monolithic building.

Frederick grunted.

"Very well guarded. Its not open to the sky, so air units cannot get in. The only entrance is the doorway, which has seven unique locks. There are no windows below the third story. There's no form of explosion the palace cannot take. Essentially, no one gets in without the keys."

Morgan whistled.

"Wow... You sure we have to take the Emblem to Ferox?"

"More than that, the emblem is best guarded by moving constantly. We also have to go there to request more troops, with the way they seem to be entering our borders this far out..."

"Well, if you say so. With any luck, we won't run into any problems on the way there."

By some trick of fate, they didn't.

* * *

_Her brother looked very close to passing out. The Grandis magic he was so proficient at hadn't given them any real edge over the attacker._

_But that was to be expected. That shadowy figure in front of them was..._

_She had to continue the fight. Her friends, her life, and the memory of her parents. She would not allow this encounter to taint them once more. Which was why..._

_A book, bound in green. Murky green, like a shadowy forest. The inky darkness whispered sinister legends and the tales of failed martyrs._

_At this rate, she would be joining their ranks sometime soon._

_**"Then. Perhaps..."**_

_This was it, then. She would access their link and use it to tear Grima apart._

**_"If the world flowed to my design, my anathema."_**

**_"This power will heed me. _**

_It was not her voice speaking. It reverberated with sin and vices. It was, undoubtedly, the voice of the Fell Dragon itself._

_And if that was how it had to be, that was that._

**_"Darkness! Follow my order and curse the innocent! Bring down the edifice of virtue and swallow the sun!"_**

_She was dying. Grima's power was not designed to attack itself._

**_"And..."_** _At that moment, she couldn't falter. Shouldn't._

_WILL._

_NOT._

**_"When the doors to heaven are locked, and the gates of hell barred..."_**

_The figure knew it as well, yet held itself down. A final gift from their parents?_

_She coughed, and everything changed for that living shadow. It seemed to almost panic, advancing forward with renewed fervor._

**_"St-Steal fire from the gods, once more... Sk-"_**

_It backfired... well, not quite. The energy she had been gathering was simply sucked away. Trying to pull more was like scooping water out of a lake with a bottomless bucket._

_A whisper, only meant for her. Who knew what last words the figure-no. This time, it was her father. What would her father tell Inigo? Regardless, she picked up every last word._

_"I don't care if this whole world burns if it means you two are safe."_

_The ice encroached upon her._

* * *

_When Morgan woke again, she cursed._

_Inigo was still frozen. How long had it been, now?_

_Soon after that, she got her answer._

_Far too long._

_She was still safe, and the world was still burning._

* * *

"It is so _damn_ cold out, what are you doing?"

Morgan turned. It wasn't actually that cold, even by human standards. He was probably just curious... She wouldn't say anything if he didn't, though.

She tries to fix the expression on her face to something the man would be used to, but it just wasn't coming. She turned around regardless.

"Heh. I'm... reminiscing, you could say."

And he moves closer, rather than just accepting her answer.

"Oh? About what?"

She smiles, finally. "Really taking this 'know about my comrades' thing seriously, aren't you? But alright. I was thinking about home."

Chrom is unexpectedly relieved to see her not-frowning. Huh. Was she that unapproachable? She'd just have to work on that; she already had 10 plans to increase her charisma...

"Alright. Now it just looks like you're thinking something really suspicious and likely to backfire."

"Huh. Wow. Aren't you judgmental. You know, I expected our great captain to be more understanding an-"

"Alright, alright. Enough of that." Chrom sighed. "You said you were born in Edelweiss. If you really want, no one is stopping you from going back for a day."

The smile vanished instantly.

"..."

"..."

"...Hm. Sorry, Chrom. It'd be nice, but going there wouldn't do what I need it to do."

Cryptic. Enigmatic, even. Chrom wasn't sure how to reply to it.

So Morgan barreled onward.

"That flock of crows."

"Huh? Oh, right. What was that about?"

"It's Plegia's premier intelligence network. Something really strange must be happening in Plegia for them to stop in the middle of a mission and leave."

His face grew contemplative. Muttering to himself (and Morgan noted that without her enhanced hearing, she would have passed it off as nothing), he sighed. "What are you up to now, Robin?"

She wanted to know, as well.

* * *

**Chrom**

**Lord**

**Level- 14**

**HP-33**

**Str-18**

**Mag-2**

**Skl-20**

**Spd-17**

**Lck-16**

**Def-15**

**Res-9**

**Skills-**

**(Personal) Undying Ideal**

_If this unit attacks and fails to defeat an enemy, +5 Def/Res for two turns._

**(****Lord ****Lv. 1) Dual Strike**

_Increases rate of dual strikes by 10%._

**(Lord Lv. 10) Charm**

_Units in a 3-square radius recieve a 5% support bonus to Accuracy and Avoid._

**"She was still safe, and the world was still burning."**

**Perhaps if I stopped using FFN's doc editor instead of, like, Word, I would stop losing so many goddamn sections. If I counted the parts that I lost, this chapter would be upsides 5k. But whatever.**

**It bugs me that Gangrel apparently needs a _reason_ to start a war. Like, I figure _maybe_ he needs to get his people to agree with him, but they're referenced to be angry about the previous war. Well... Regardless, Cordelia doesn't appear this chapter because Plegia hasn't technically invaded the borders yet.**

**Cherry, because her hair and eyes are varying shades of red. How about it? Also: Cheery-add an R, lose an E = Cherry. Boom.**

**Off the record, I totally cheese the stat sheets. I just assume that the characters get stronger to match the adversaries. It's really only for abilities and unique items.**

**Oh, right. And Glace won by like 7 votes.**


	14. 8-2 Unpopular Sovereignty

**You may or may not have noticed that the tags have changed. If this is not your jam, turn back now.**

**To be honest, this is also the reason why I said there would be no RobinxLucina in chapter 2. I mean, if you want it really badly... Ew.**

**I don't own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

There was a knock on his bedroom door. He was staring at the ceiling for various reasons, so he jumped to the door immediately.

The white haired young man scratched the back of his head.

"...Should I ask?" Robin inquired as he yawned.

Inigo smiled grimly. "I'm not sure how much I could tell you. But I know you want to ask, so you might as well."

Robin raised an eyebrow at that. "We'll see... Alright. How old are you?"

"Roughly 120 years old."

Robin blinked. He'd have assumed they'd be somewhere in their teens... Well, how would he know about their aging cycle? He'd only been around for 20 something years. Not to mention, he'd been hexed in multiple different ways to age like a human.

"Hmm... Any siblings?"

"One. She's a better tactician than me, at that."

"I see. Um... her name and age?"

"Morgan, and she's 118. Also... don't you want to ask something else?"

Robin sighed. "A million things. But I want to focus on things that won't surprise me in the future. And I suppose it's bad form to ask who your mother is?"

Inigo grimaced. "Oh, I would tell you, but it's better if you figure it out yourself... or rather, once you meet Morgan, there's no way you wouldn't know."

Robin took the words at face value.

"Okay. So, how about this? Who was that person at the Dragon's Table?"

"Truthfully? I don't know." Inigo made a hapless gesture. "No, he didn't travel with us from our timeline. But I've got some ideas."

Robin's lips quirked up for a moment. "Any you can tell me about?"

"..."

At the silence, he slumped. "Thought so."

* * *

"Dang! It's reaaaally dark in here. How about we light a torch, Robbie?"

"Sure, but I don't have any matches. Or any torches, at that." Robin yawned. The silence was _just_ getting comfortable. Inigo had stayed with his aunt in the capital of Plegia, saying to 'meet me when you're done with your business.'

"Oh, don't worry. I found an Elfire tome lying around. Light it up, nyahaha!"

Robin found a heavy weight in his hand. Then, another weight which he guessed to be a torch.

Holding his palm to the heavier weight, he felt the thrum of magic and heat dancing in the air.

"Elfire!"

Black flames spewed out of his hand. He stared at the torch, radiating heat but not light.

"..."

"..."

"..."

Robin smacked his face with his palm. Blowing out the torch, he handed the torch back. "Ugh. You do it."

In a short while, they were walking through the desert night, towards a monolithic structure.

He knocked the door, and got no answer.

Robin walked into the stronghold, looking around. It was made of stone, with nearly no decor or any sort of aesthetic. The halls were lit with torches, only wide enough for three people to walk side by side, and even that was without armor.

He promised the king that he was 'undoubtedly going to assist Plegia'. What that meant... Well, it didn't matter right now. He just wanted to talk with the commanders of the main forces. He wasn't sure what would happen from there, either.

"I think the door is right... here!" Henry suddenly pulled on a wooden door and opened another room, already occupied.

A bald man with tan skin and a very bushy beard stood at the far end of the room. There was a table at the center of the rather square room, but everyone seemed to just stand. The bearded man was scarred, with high posture and a particularly nasty faded cut on his left eye.

A paler man with white hair and stern features, and finally...

Vasto waved to him.

"Hah! It's been a while, Wanderer."

"More than a while. But yeah, good to see you too. Just call me Robin, would you?"

"Gotcha. And-aha, Henry! What're you doing here?"

Henry's grin widened. "I met Robin at the border. I remember you talked about him a lot, so I sent out word."

Vasto nodded. Robin wondered if Henry knew about some... less pleasant aspects of his and Vasto's adventures, but decided that he probably didn't. Transformation into an evil dragon god wasn't the sort of thing you went spreading around, if you weren't a fanatic.

"Good thing you did, too. Should have seen it, kid! We were about risk our lives to claim the Emblem."

Vasto loosened after that, slumping a little. "Damn that king and his war." The other two, older men looked at him silently. A cautionary glance.

"Ahem." He turned off that train of thought. "I should introduce you. The general of the main forces, Mustafa. And the king's personal guard and general of the elite forces, Campari."

The tanner man raised his hand. "Yep. I haven't seen you in quite some time."

The manakete narrowed his eyes at Mustafa. "What do you mean? We've... never met, right?"

"You probably wouldn't remember. Long before you were even known as the 'starchild', I visited your father. We were good friends before he lost his mind."

"Lost his mind?"

"It's not my place to tell you. Anyways, what brings you to the Plegian stronghold?"

Robin exhaled. "So I told Gangrel that I would assist _Plegia_, but for reasons, I don't want to take his words at face value. I want to know what some others know about the wishes of the people."

"Peace."

"Security."

"Revenge."

Three answers rang out at the same time.

There was silence for a while, before Campari eventually stood, a resigned look on his face.

"I will not tell the King of what happened today. But I stand with those of us that wish to pay them back twofold."

He left the room. Henry took his spot, and Robin stood awkwardly.

"Ahem. Well..." He cleared his throat. "I suppose I'll agree with you. What happens now?"

Vasto shrugged helplessly, and Mustafa sighed.

"There's nothing we can do. Gangrel holds our families hostage, even if he doesn't act. A single motion of treason could rip away our lives, ignoring the fact that failure supposedly means death, even for generals such as us."

Robin nodded.

"What if Gangrel dies quietly?"

"No, you can't win anything through assassination. Since he hasn't _really_ done anything yet, his subtle death will only incite the people's rage."

"That's fair. Alright... What if we evacuated all your families?"

Vasto looked at him funny. "That'd never work. Barring the fact that we have nowhere to send them, Plegia's intelligence network would allow Gangrel to catch on within seconds. Far too risky."

Robin was silent, but then raised his finger.

He pointed at the dark mage. "What, _that_ intelligence network?"

* * *

Robin yawned, walking into the bar like he owned it.

...What was he doing in a tavern, anyways? If he was looking for the East-Khan, then he should be-"Hah? Oh, it's the dragon kid again."

Robin turned sideways, contemplating what to say in response.

"Hello to you too." He decided. Quite a boring answer, really. Basilio appeared to agree, by the looks of his unimpressed stare.

Basilio flagged down the bartender and asked for a drink, most likely hard, burning, and amnesia inducing, if the phrase 'Knock me the fuck out, barkeep' was any hint.

It wasn't even noon. Robin said as much, and the warrior laughed at him.

"Oh, don't sweat the small stuff. It seems that you're looking for me, right?"

A wide eyed stare. "How'd you know?"

"It''s an old saying... not sure if it's from all the mercenaries that passed through here or if it's actually Feroxian... 'You'll find what you're looking for in the heat of a tavern'."

"_One Drowning Hazard, East-Khan._" The bartender passed a... menacing looking golden drink with purple swirls in it to Basilio.

"I think... isn't that some philosophical nonsense?" He kept the conversation going, but he was really just staring at the Drowning Hazard. Who would drink something so...?

"Perhaps, boy. But you're here now, and so am I. What is it that you need?"

The purple swirl was mesmerizing. He swallowed his trepidation.

"Now, here's the deal, old man..."

"Gods. What is it this time, boy?"

Robin blinked, staring at the dark-skinned Feroxi man.

"Huh? Oh, nothing big. I just need to find refuge for, like, a hundred or so Plegian families while I start an insurrection."

"_Nothing big, he says..._ Say, ever met a gal named Morgan? She wears a cloak just like yours and I daresay she had strategies that work and are thought through beforehand."

Robin wasn't sure if he should have taken that as an insult or not.

"Well, apparently I'm supposed to know her. Do you?"

Basilio raised an eyebrow. That was certainly an odd way of responding. "Yeah. She passed through here with your friends not so long ago. She walked around like she was your replacement."

"That's to be expected; I suppose. Too much is happening in Plegia."

They were both staring at the cup at this point. Robin was getting anxious. Exactly who planned to drink that concoction?

"Alright. I can probably find some space, seeing as the border villages have been nigh abandoned due to Risen and such. Just one request."

"And that is..."

"You've made a discovery, haven't you? You look a lot older than you did a few weeks ago!"

And wasn't that concerning. Seems memories made the man, more often than not.

"...A lot older...?"

"Hah! Don't worry about it, boy. What you need right now is a test."

"That doesn't inspire much confidence in me. What kind of test?" He paused and grimaced. "And please don't tell me it involves single combat."

It didn't.

What he heard didn't sound any better, to be honest.

* * *

So they'd split up. Robin was making fast friends with Henry, so Inigo wandered the streets of Ferox on his own.

It was always very lively. Similar to how Edelweiss was after Mother and Father had the theater built...

That was something. If there was one thing he wanted to see right now, it was Mother. He couldn't say much, and he wouldn't, but there were few things he wanted more.

There was so much he wanted to say. To both of them, but he held back, knowing the troubles he could cause with just a few words, though his parents could premiere on a modern romantic comedy at this rate.

He could see it already. The new most popular book in stores, 'My Son From The Future Won't Stop Cockblocking Me', coveted by comedians worldwide.

...People often said he acted too much like his father when he wasn't flirting. He was both proud of the fact and hated it all the same.

_You inherited the sass but not the tactics. Just get us out of here, idiot._

One of Severa's more biting insults. He swallowed and shut out those thoughts.

He turned onto a busier street and kept an eye out for any commotion.

There was but one. There were many cheers and a shimmering cloth flew through the air, tailed by flashy pink hair.

In the crowd was a figure with a familiar coat, though they made their presence very small.

Weaving through the crowd-and admiring his mother's work- he tapped the figure on the shoulder.

They didn't jolt, to his disappointment. That was par for the course when dealing with Morgan, he supposed. She turned, curious eyes attempting to tear down his motives, thoughts, and emotions the second they met his.

"Been a while, Morgan."

She smiled-warmly, he noted (and wasn't that a surprise)- and spoke as well. "Of course, Inigo. I take it you found Father?"

He nodded and wondered if she knew this from the start or if it was something in his body language. "Yeah. And I don't suppose you're with Chrom's group, then?"

She was finally surprised. "Huh. How'd you know?"

"Call it a hunch."

They faced back at the dancer.

"I suppose we can join you again. From what I hear, Plegia is pretty split down the middle about what to do, and the so called 'starchild' has increased the tension hundredfold. They all want to do the thing that pleases Grima, but no one's sure what it is."

Inigo sighed. "Then he'll have to remain anonymous if he wants to unseat Gangrel. We can probably set a meeting later, Morgan."

The dance ended.

Inigo headed toward Olivia, waiting in line with all the other well-wishers and complimenters.

"Say, who was that, Morgan?"

Chrom asked as he watched the man walk away. The familiarity he had with the tactician made Chrom a little uncomfortable. Perhaps it had something to do with the suave grin, or flirtatious tone.

But that would imply...

"Oh. Just someone I know."

On the other end Inigo finally reached his mother.

He swallowed. So many things he wanted to say, but he had nothing he could say. He could feel his face heat up as he stood in awkward silence.

"Y-you're an inspiration to me!" Internally, he wanted to slap himself, but his mouth kept rolling on. "Your dances are so inspiring, and-" He stopped himself from steamrolling his way through the conversation. "Um. Uh, I wish the best for you, and all the happiness in the world!"

He dashed off, face flaming. Olivia looked in his direction quizzically.

"Huh. So there are people who get embarrassed more easily than me." She giggled. "How strange..."

* * *

"So..." Robin coughed and stared awkwardly at Inigo and Henry.

Henry smiled at him questioningly and Inigo frowned.

This couldn't be anything good.

"Basilio will agree to house the temporary refugees if I somehow manage to pay off his bar tab by next week today."

His audience went through various stages of shock, disbelief, and contemplation before Inigo raised a hand, slightly nervous.

"I believe I have an idea..."

* * *

**So, I won't lie. The final nail in the coffin for RobinxOlivia was the fact that Inigo and Morgan would be siblings. I do like the pairing, but it really boils down to that last fact. I don't feel bad about it at all. What I do feel bad about is the total tack of action in this chapter, and most likely the next.  
**

**Didn't want to do another stat sheet for various reasons. But you should have a decent understanding of Aversa's abilities, so whatever.**

**I like coming up with names for extreme cocktails but I'm very bad at it. I'm also underage.**

**Funny stuff. I know how each chapter starts, and how each chapter ends. Then I start writing and I'm like 'well shit, what happens between here and there?' These chapters are probably less enjoyable for it, but there has to be a bridge between 'here' and 'there', you know?**

**We're only like, 3 chapters from the end of the arc... The split has snapped back into one piece, for what it's worth.**


End file.
